The Incongruence of the Manosphere

I was initially reluctant to watch Louis Theroux’s latest documentary on the manosphere. However, it generated so much discussion that I eventually couldn’t resist. The documentary explores an online world where misogyny, patriarchy and performative masculinity dominate.

As a woman, I was disgusted. As a wife, whose husband is the opposite of the men portrayed, I was angered. As a mum of sons, I was appalled. As a counsellor, however, I was fascinated.

Viewing the men Louis interviewed through the lens of psychotherapy and personality theory, I found myself increasingly concerned. If these men continue living in this way, what will be the long-term impact on their emotional wellbeing?

From a Person-Centred perspective, many of the men featured appear to be living in a state of profound incongruence. There seems to be a significant gap between who they really are—with all the vulnerability, dependency and emotional complexity that comes with being human—and the one-dimensional personas they present to the world.

When Theroux’s questions, or the reflections of relatives, threatened these carefully constructed identities, the responses were often defensive and aggressive. One man repeatedly shouted, “I don’t care!” Yet this did not feel like the response of someone who is content, authentic or at peace with themselves.

Much of their lives appear to exist online. Some stream their daily activities for up to eight hours a day. The documentary shows homes transformed into podcast studios, where the same voices recycle the same messages, often ridiculing women and reinforcing each other’s beliefs. Their social circles seem largely made up of fellow content creators and followers. Very little feels grounded in the realities of everyday life.

The result is an echo chamber where there is little challenge to beliefs or behaviours. In one particularly uncomfortable scene, a subject appears to be actively goading Theroux while responding in real time to comments from viewers. It felt as though he was being directed by his audience, almost puppeted by them, rather than acting from any authentic sense of self. As creators compete for attention, the content becomes increasingly extreme.

What struck me most was how externally focused their sense of worth appears to be. Money, physique, status and access to attractive women are presented as markers of success. Wealth and influence are amplified through online academies and businesses that often seem precarious and dependent on maintaining a personal brand. It raises the question: What happens when the audience moves on?

And then there is the portrayal of women. Misogynistic attitudes are commonplace. Two men advocate a form of one-way monogamy, where they are free to have multiple partners while expecting complete fidelity from their wives or girlfriends. Watching this, I found myself thinking not about power, but about loneliness. These men seem unable to experience what it means to be genuinely partnered with another person—to know the mutuality, trust and intimacy that comes from being fully loved and fully known.

Despite their claims of success and fulfilment, I was left with the impression that many of the men featured are neither happy nor content. Several spoke of childhood trauma, loss, and fractured family relationships. While their views and behaviours are often deeply troubling, I believe the most useful response is not condemnation alone. As counsellors, we are invited to look beneath behaviour with curiosity, empathy and a refusal to reduce people to their worst actions.

That does not mean excusing misogyny or overlooking the real harm these attitudes can cause to women, relationships and society. Challenge and accountability remain essential. However, if we focus solely on the behaviour, we risk missing the emotional and relational factors that may have contributed to it in the first place.

Many of the men in the documentary appeared isolated, disconnected and driven by a relentless need for external validation. Beneath the bravado, anger and performance, I saw people struggling with unresolved pain and a fragile sense of self. The manosphere may offer them certainty, belonging and identity, but at a significant emotional cost.

Ultimately, the documentary left me wondering not only how we challenge these harmful narratives, but also how we create alternative spaces where men can experience connection, vulnerability and self-worth without having to reject or dominate others. Unless we are willing to understand what draws people towards these communities, we may struggle to offer a meaningful alternative.