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The Toxic Atmosphere of Social Media Does Not Explain Everything

Antifeminism among young men cannot be understood by blaming online toxicity alone: concrete fears of social decline and thwarted masculine expectations are being redirected toward feminism and women rather than toward the systems that produce precarity.

Para entender o fenômeno dos jovens antifeministas
Outras Palavras · By Nuria Alabao · 12 June 2026 · read the original in Portuguese →

Ambiente tóxico das redes não explica tudo. Há frustrações concretas como a sensação de vida deteriorada em relação à geração de seus país. O gênero vira bode expiatório do mal-estar – e não quem os precariza. Caso sul-coreano ilustra essa nova realidade

The toxic atmosphere of social media does not explain everything. There are concrete frustrations, such as the sense that life has deteriorated in comparison with their parents’ generation. Gender becomes the scapegoat for malaise, rather than those who make their lives precarious. The South Korean case illustrates this new reality.

Publicado 12/06/2026 às 18:05 - Atualizado 12/06/2026 às 18:48

Published June 12, 2026, at 6:05 p.m. - Updated June 12, 2026, at 6:48 p.m.

By Nuria Alabao, in CTXT | Translation: Roney RodriguesPor Nuria Alabao, no CTXT | Tradução: Rôney Rodrigues

In 2021, being a feminist was the closest thing to a generational consensus Spain had known in decades. Half of young people identified with feminism, a figure far higher than in the previous decade. Only four years later, that support has fallen considerably, to 38.4 percent, and not only among young men, although it is among them that the steepest decline appears.

Antifeminism is a position politically constructed in the heat of the global rightward turn. But we could also include other factors: when the most livable feminism is identified with the government, with the education system, with political correctness, it becomes, for some young people, the voice of authority. And every authority generates its rebellion. These young men perceive a blaming of themselves: they are held responsible for machismo before they have even lived their lives. In antifeminist spaces they find a kind of relief that mixes provocation with countercultural amusement. It is also important not to overstate the phenomenon: openly antifeminist positions remain a minority among young people, but the social alarm they produce amplifies their echo.

When we speak of the causes of this rightward shift, we usually point to the manosphere, where such content spreads across the internet and social networks, and where certain negative affects, amplified by algorithms, also circulate. Yet we also need to ask a fundamental question: why does antifeminist content find fertile ground in a generation that grew up in a more egalitarian environment than those before it? What sort of exits does it offer from these young men’s frustrations?

Between the Material and the CulturalEntre o material e o cultural

In Incels, Gymbros, Cryptobros and Other Antifeminist Species (CTXT, 2026), I tried to explain how material malaise and anxieties about the future can be converted into antifeminist reaction among new generations who already know they will live worse than their parents. This means less access to consumer goods or property, housing being much more expensive, proportionally lower wages, and so on. But living better is not only a matter of having better material conditions, important though that is. We women of Generation X, born between 1965 and 1980, know that once the cultural dimension is introduced, we have indeed lived better than our mothers in terms of life expectations and possibilities, access to study and work, and the freedom to live our sexuality, even if that advantage diminishes in later generations as social equality grows.

The debate over cultural and material causes, then, cannot always be separated, and it has many edges. One of them is the special capacity gender has to condense material malaise that ends up being coded, or diverted, in cultural terms. That is: feelings of loss, fear, or lack of social recognition often find expression, and sometimes distortion, in the language of gender. Processes of deindustrialization, for example, can give rise to patriarchal nostalgia, and this does not necessarily have to do with real losses of status so much as with self-perceived ones. Let us look at an example.

South Korea as LaboratoryCoreia do Sul como laboratório

South Korea has the lowest birth rate in the world, 0.75 children per woman, and presents certain peculiarities in the relationship between men and women. There, historically, marriage has been a demonstration of men’s arrival into adult life and a marker of success: the man marries, forms a family, and supports it. Spain was once like this too, but today that demand no longer operates in the same way: no one expects young men to be the family breadwinners and women not to work. What has happened in South Korea is that these expectations have been dismantled very quickly, on both sides at once.

On the economic side, labor precarity and the price of housing have meant that many young men cannot fulfill the provider role the traditional model demands of them. The South Korean marriage market continues to operate with rigid expectations and, unlike in Spain, the man is expected to contribute housing and economic stability. Without that, many are left out.

On the other hand, women have evolved very rapidly and, in fact, a growing share have decided that they do not want to marry or have children under these conditions. According to a 2022 survey, 65 percent of young South Korean women do not want offspring, compared with 48 percent of men. And more than 62 percent of young single women said they were satisfied with their romantic situation, compared with 38 percent of single men. The movement known as 4B, no marriage, no children, no dating, no sex, is the most radical expression of this refusal. We have seen similar debates on social media here, what we call heteropessimism, but their reach is nowhere near that of the South Korean case.

The result is an uncoupling. Young men perceive marriage as becoming unattainable for them and, instead of trying to modify their own expectations about the masculinity that oppresses them, or directing their frustration against an economic system that prevents them from fulfilling the role assigned to them, they project it against feminism and against the women who no longer accept that pact.

This has very direct political consequences. In South Korea’s 2022 presidential election, 63 percent of idaenam, men in their twenties, voted for the antifeminist conservative Yoon Suk-yeol, the highest level of support of any age group, compared with 26 percent of women of the same age. According to a Gallup Korea survey, 56.1 percent of young South Korean men actively participate in male online spaces. As is now customary, the authors of the survey correlate participation in the manosphere with an increase in hostile and modern sexism, as well as with lower support for virtually every policy intended to promote gender equality. In this case, however, they warn that these associations are not necessarily causal; that is, they cannot determine whether these spaces radicalize men or whether already radicalized men seek them out.

Antifeminism and PrecarityAntifeminismo e precariedade

A study in South Korea by the sociologist Joeun Kim sought to answer the question of whether the ideology of male victimhood, the belief that men are now the principal targets of discrimination, can be explained by economic precarity. What she found is that unemployed men, men with low incomes, or men without higher education were no more inclined toward victimhood than other men in a good economic position. She found that the correlation between antifeminist ideas and social position was more closely related to the perception of socioeconomic decline in relation to one’s parents’ generation, and especially sharply among middle- and upper-class men. In other words, in this case it was not necessarily the most marginalized who embraced antifeminist discourse, but rather those who felt they were moving down in class or that their position was under threat.

In a second experimental study, Kim showed that exposure to scenarios of status threat, the decline of marriage and work opportunities, did not increase hostile sexism among all men, but did increase it significantly among men who were already experiencing downward mobility. And the most revealing finding is that the mechanism is specifically gendered: it increases hostility toward women, but not toward society in general. Frustration was not directed against the economic system that produces precarity, or against their own gender oppression, which generates unattainable expectations, but against feminism, which becomes the scapegoat for a social descent whose causes are structural.

For her part, the researcher Soohyun Christine Lee attributes the weight of this issue to the fact that, in an ethnically homogeneous country without immigrants who can function as scapegoats, women have become the main substitute object of economic frustrations: “Economic insecurity, combined with traditional familism and marriage norms, has generated a toxic anxiety among young men, since leading a ‘normal life’ of marriage and family is beyond their reach.” Misogyny thus becomes the safety valve for their malaise and for the crisis of masculinity, in which masculinity itself is also inseparable from economic determinants.

Finally, it is worth reflecting here on the generational question. In South Korea, it is especially pronounced, since men in their twenties express positions more hostile to feminism than any other male cohort, including those over 60. This pattern is not exclusively South Korean. In Spain, some peculiar data on values speak to this inversion. For example, 23 percent of Generation Z considers that staying home to care for children makes a man “less of a man,” compared with 4 percent of boomers, according to Ipsos. Globally, the generational inversion is still more pronounced: 31 percent of Generation Z men across 29 countries believe a wife should always obey her husband, compared with 13 percent of boomer men, according to the same study.

One explanation we might offer has to do with memory: older generations would be more closely linked to struggles for equality and would perceive these rights as gains that must be protected. But the studies cited offer a complementary reading of a material kind. If the most significant predictor of antifeminism is not objective precarity but the perception of status decline, and if among young people this has to do with falling in relation to their parents, it is worth asking whether the consolidated position of boomers, with homeownership rates, salary levels, and accumulated wealth far higher than those of the young, does not operate here as a buffer against gender resentment. Those who do not perceive their status as deteriorating have fewer reasons to look for culprits. Those who feel the ground moving beneath their feet are more vulnerable to the narrative that points to feminism as responsible for their fall.

In this context, and amid the use of young people’s frustrations as a tool for the rightward shift, disarming the trap of antifeminism will require us to take the gender question out of the culture war, where we can only lose, and return it to the terrain of the material conditions of existence. An effective feminist political framework for these times also requires affirming that the mandate of masculinity produces suffering in men and women, though in different ways. Setting ourselves to destroy that mandate would then be not a gesture of generosity toward men, but a condition for the emancipation of all of us, in every gendered form.

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