If you’re on social media, you’ve certainly heard of him: the performative male. In the past few months, the archetype of the “performative male” has made waves across the internet, portraying a subgenre of men who co-opt the interests of indie women to better appeal — albeit inauthentically—to their female love interests. Generally, the performative is said to enjoy reading feminist literature, listening to bedroom pop artists like Clairo, and ordering matcha lattes at local cafes. However, these interests don’t stem from a place of genuine enjoyment, but rather a feeble attempt at garnering female attention.
Just like so many of its trendy predecessors, what started as a harmless and humorous critique of superficiality in male suitors has lost its original plot, moving into scrutinizing the sincerity of male interests. Rather than making fun of these men for adopting interests for the purpose of scoring their very own manic pixie dream girl, increasingly, I’ve noticed the pattern of accusations of performativity towards men who are simply existing on the internet, put under the microscope for something as simple as a book in frame or an iced latte in hand.
Gender, in itself, is a performative experience. Gender theorist and philosopher Judith Butler first introduced the concept of gender as performance in their revolutionary work, Gender Trouble. Butler asserts that, “Gender is not something that one is, it is something one does… a ‘doing’ rather than a ‘being.’” Essentially, there is no biological explanation for masculinity or femininity; no gene or chromosome makes a woman decide to wear mascara. Given that gender is nothing more than a performance in response to preconceived societal expectations of the sexes, what point are we making when we berate random men on the internet for their interests? When did we decide that reading theory and drinking matcha is so intrinsically feminine that a man having an interest in these things could only be for the end goal of winning over a woman? Is this what gender liberation ought to look like?
When we assume that men can only be interested in these hobbies for the purpose of securing a woman, we inadvertently reinforce the same gender binary that has so strictly defined womanhood for generations. The same patriarchal and oppressive system that requires women to shave their naturally occurring body hair, wear makeup, and maintain a submissive and mild manner also dictates men’s behavior, encouraging us to demean and belittle men who stray outside of the traditional scope of masculinity. The real issue with the performative male is not the interests themselves, but rather the motivations to adopt these interests.
Similarly, the modern-day witch hunt of the performative males strikes an interesting chord, raising questions about the nature of performativity itself. If a man can’t read a book in public without appearing to be performing, will we ever be able to truly escape the all-seeing eye of others’ interpretations of ourselves? In our rigorous investigation of the “true nature” of these performative males, we are not only fortifying traditional gender roles and binaries, but also manufacturing fear around how we are allowed to enjoy our hobbies and interests. If it is supposedly performative to read in public or wear a band tee without being able to name five songs they created, can we truly enjoy the things we put our free time into? When an omnipresent watcher, waiting to larp on our newest performative feat, hangs above our heads, are we meant to simply enjoy?
The assumption that all men who enjoy things deemed to fit the archetype of the performative male as inauthentic is not only ignorant, but it is also dangerous. Men are not the sole enforcers of patriarchal masculinity. Just because women do not benefit from the patriarchy does not mean that we are not socialized to support and uphold it. The performative male serves as a primary example of this notion. When we approach the deconstruction of the patriarchy as an “us vs. them” mentality, our battle is already lost. It will take the help of men to deconstruct the patriarchy. Not only do they help, but men will have to willingly give up privileges they have always known, and as the saying goes, “when you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.” How can we expect men to want to be a part of abolishing systems of gender oppression when we will not even allow them to buy a matcha or read books?
Theorist bell hooks touches on this concept in her transformational work, The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity, and Love. In this novel, hooks discusses gender liberation and patriarchal masculinity’s unique impact on men. Hooks asserts that, when we deem men as “unfixable” or “lost causes,” we isolate them entirely. Collective gender liberation will not be attained without the help of men. Hooks discusses how patriarchal masculinity not only oppresses women but also does not allow for men to experience the full scope of human emotions, given that our society looks down upon male expression.
While we laugh at the performative male, take some time to reflect on exactly what you’re laughing at. Consider why it is so humorous that a man could actually take an interest in things that are considered feminine. You may come to the conclusion that we are all more active in sustaining patriarchal culture than we would like to think.
“To create loving men, we must love males. Loving maleness is different from praising and rewarding males for living up to sexist-defined notions of male identity. Caring about men because of what they do for us is not the same as loving males for simply being… In an anti-patriarchal culture, males do not have to prove their value and worth. They know from birth that simply being gives them value, the right to be cherished and loved.”