Over the past month, “performative male contests” have been popping up at colleges all over the United States. These contests jokingly compare individuals competing based on their ability to embody the performative male stereotypes. Common competitors don Labubus, show off Clairo and Mitski vinyls, and pull out feminist literature from their tote bags while crowds cheer them on.
The phenomenon first occurred in Seattle on August 1st, shortly after performative male stereotypes—from accessorizing with unread feminist theory to curating the perfect indie music collection—became a trending topic on TikTok. Student-led events quickly swept the nation as contest flyers circulated on social media daily.
While these harmless stereotypes and playful competitions might seem like innocent fun, they’ve inadvertently overshadowed what the term “performative male” actually means and why it matters.
Totebags and stringed headphones aren’t what really define a performative male. In reality, the term describes someone who lures women into a relationship by providing a seemingly safe environment–by appearing feminist, LGBTQ+ friendly and progressive–only to display their true conservative, patriarchal, or sexist views after a relationship with trust and dependence is built.
Performative males include individuals who “read” feminist literature, but only in places where women can see them, repost jokes about men “fixing” women’s problems, and dress in a more feminine manner as a dating strategy rather than genuine self-expression.
While these traits don’t seem harmful, just slightly deceitful, they showcase a real problem with the commodification of feminism.
By presenting as a feminist but never actually standing up for equality or supporting women when they are in real need, they undermine the work of authentic feminists. It sets a precedent that feminism isn’t producing real results, or that women’s rights are something that can continue to be ignored. These actions suggest that feminism is a facade rather than a real, important movement.
Furthermore, the actions of performative men erode the trust that women have in all men. Performative men act as safe places for women, but ultimately aren’t people women can be themselves around. As women meet more of these deceptive figures, their trust in male partners slowly or even quickly deteriorates. Because of this, women are increasingly isolated and are more likely to end up in harmful and unstable relationships.
The contests don’t just make me concerned because of the overshadowing of a serious issue but also because of what this popularity reveals. This archetype has become prevalent enough to gain a name, inspire sarcastic contest themes, and become a widespread meme. The trajectory feels disturbingly familiar: a personality type emerges, spreads through male communities, gains popularity online, and ultimately becomes a joke that inadvertently showcases how common it has become.
We’ve seen this pattern before with red-pill content and other toxic masculinity trends. The fact that performative male behavior has followed the same arc should serve as a warning rather than an invitation to laugh it off.
Overall, it’s okay to laugh at the contests and share the memes. But don’t let the joke distract you from the reality of performative men. The more we treat it as a punchline rather than a problem, the longer we allow it to continue undermining the trust, safety, and progress that real feminism fights to build.