Imagine going on Hinge, and his profile appears as if an angelic light shone on it. It’s a young man, shaggy hair meticulously groomed, a Clairo-themed tote bag slung over his shoulder with wired headphones hanging from it, probably carrying 10 books on his ‘to be read’ list, and holding a delicious iced matcha latte. Upon first glance he may tick off all of the boxes, aesthetically aware and refined. But in between the folds of the canvas tote bag and the book he’s been holding, staring at the same page for 40 minutes, is a glimpse of performance. He is carefully orchestrated from gestures to appearances. Or maybe consider the profile of the man whose entire page is just photos of his inhumanely sharp jawline and impossible physique. His hairline is so perfect it almost looks drawn on, and his skin is edited to perfection. Here, performance is extreme, intense, and calculated. His performance is about reaching the ultimate aesthetic ideal. Philosopher Judith Butler reminds us that gender is not an innate truth, but the duty of performance that builds the product of “man” or “woman.” Between the iced matcha and tote bags, to jawlines sharp enough to kill, these instances of performance are not neutral, but instrumental in producing and policing the idea of “masculinity” within socially sanctioned norms online.
Scrolling online, it is almost impossible to ignore the rise of “looksmaxxing.” The term, borrowed from ‘incel’ culture, an online community of young men who are “involuntarily celibate” due to their inability to attract women and hostile views and behavior against women, is a subculture of people obsessed with maximizing their physical appearance. From jaw stretching exercises to extremes like bonesmashing, (which involves tapping your bone structure with a hammer to form sharpness in your face), looksmaxxing has exploded in global interest, with South Korea having their own subculture called “외모정병” which directly translates to “appearance disease,” where minors undergo extreme medical and cosmetic procedures to achieve the unfeasible aesthetic desires of Korean pop culture. The goal operates the same as the Hinge profiles: to become undeniably desirable within beauty codes, to be socially desirable, and to be validated externally. But the moral and ethical implications of achieving aesthetic desire under drastic notions is troubling, especially when the majority of the communities are consumed by young audiences.
Dr. Lanie Presswood, professor at Pace University, noted that she wished “young men would talk to women about what they want in a partner instead of talking to other angry young men.” Online forums that are obsessed with aesthetic validation become echo chambers, amplifying unrealistic expectations and negative judgement. Young men login on Reddit and exchange tips and rate those who upload photos of themselves, asking to be critiqued under the lens of unachievable and isolating standards. There is a kind of loneliness that is baked into this subculture online. Not only alienation from themselves and their perception of their own beauty, but alienation from community and meaningful human connections that they try to pursue in the form of looksmaxxing. You have to wonder, is this really the result of the “male loneliness epidemic,” or is it the result of the isolation that comes with the performance of masculinity that is unfeasible and unrealistic within the framework of patriarchy?
Butler’s insights to gender and its performance is crucial in understanding this cycle. From canvas tote bags and iced matchas, to ‘low-tier normies’ and ‘Chads’, these are not unattached notions of masculinity. These are the very vessels of identity through repeated gestures and social norms that cultivate a vision of manhood and masculinity prescribed by social expectation and heteronormative ideals. Each photo and each post is a declaration. “I am this kind of guy.” “I am desirable.” Although these gestures can be subtle, like the performative male holding a tote bag and a book, or extreme, like looksmaxxers, the message and the function operate the same regardless. Gender becomes consumable. Gender becomes a means of performance. It begs the question as to what draws the line in self-modification, whether it’d be injecting chemicals in your face to protrude your jawline, or picking whatever obscure band tee looks better while grabbing a coffee. Is it truly a personal endeavor or a means to follow cultural scripts to seek validation and desirability? These obsessions become more than just superficial. They are cultural, social, and psychological.
Perhaps the most pressing question of all is what this rise in extremism says about the structures that reinforce these ideas and desires in the first place. When masculinity is something that is meant to be achieved, like a goalpost obscured in fog, performance becomes that endless run to an end they cannot see. Gender can be a forever moving target, forever just out of reach and forever a chase that may never conclude. Performance becomes a survival instinct. It’s the method for validation, recognition, desirability, and visibility. The real disruption in this conversation is to step out of this echo chamber. It is to step away from the idea of the goalpost and to ask “Who am I when I’m not performing?” or “Who am I when no one is watching to validate?”
Maybe it is the goal to not become the “ideal” man, but to become a whole person.