They make outrageous statements. They ’re banned from social media. Yet, despite huge strides towards gender equality in some areas of society, a new breed of misogynist is thriving. Is it just that controversy sells, or is something more insidious going on? Harriet Hall enters their world to find out…
He was nowhere until he was everywhere. Over a few short, hectic weeks this summer, his name was searched more times than Donald Trump or Kim Kardashian. And then he disappeared. His stratospheric internet fame led to an outright blanket ban from almost all social media, with Facebook, Instagram, TikTok and YouTube all citing violations of their policies (Twitter had removed him some time earlier). The ex-Big
Brother contestant turned self-appointed lifestyle guru finally appeared to fade into the digital ether.
And now? Former kickboxing world champion Andrew Tate, a man who has been labelled ‘violently misogynistic’, is in my living room. Almost. We’re talking over Zoom; Tate is in an Airbnb – areproduction of Michelangelo’s Creation Of Adam hangs on the wall behind him, forming the backdrop to our conversation, which returns to religion several times and how Tate moulds men in his image. He tells me no one wants to hear ‘his side’ of the story. I suspect much of the media doesn’t want to platform him – aconsideration that the Cosmopolitan UK team debated in depth over the course of several days. But Tate already has global infamy, so we decided to speak to him. Not to boost his ego, or give air to his damaging views, but instead to find out why men like him thrive. Because, despite the outpouring of criticism directed at him, Tate still has an army of loyal fans. What does his influence mean to them? Could the men in our lives be among them? And what does his success say about society? I immersed myself in his world to find out.
Andrew Tate is nothing new. He slots neatly into a long line of men who have gained cult-like followings online, with content promising self-improvement and a community where men feeling confused or angry can vent and receive the validation they don’t feel they can find elsewhere. Tate is but one small part of the manosphere, a digital ecosystem that includes: pick-up artists (PUAs); involuntary celibates; men going their own way; and so-called ‘men’s rights activists’.
Even if you’re not familiar with the manosphere, you’ve probably heard of at least one of its inhabitants. There’s Neil Strauss, and his bestseller The Game, which armed men with unscrupulous dating tactics such as ‘isolating the target’ and lowering women’s self-esteem by ‘negging’ them with backhanded compliments. It sold 2.5million copies. Strauss wasn’t the first PUA, but The Game bro
