In today’s online culture, the term “performative male” gets thrown around a lot. Scroll through TikTok or Instagram, and you will find people mocking young men for curated photos, painted nails, thrifted clothes or listening to specific female artists. The label has become a shorthand for someone who is trying too hard, usually with an undertone of insincerity. But here’s the truth: performative males are not a threat to culture or masculinity. In fact, they’re the latest example of how people experiment with identity.
The stereotype of the performative male paints a picture of someone shallow and fake, obsessed with appearances and more concerned with seeming “deep” than actually being authentic. He’s the guy who posts cryptic song lyrics, strikes practiced poses in mirror selfies and fills his feed with a carefully curated aesthetic. That might seem cringy or over the top, but ask yourself, “Is that different from anyone else performing online?”
Social media is built on performance. Celebrities curate every outfit, influencers stage candid shots and even the average user carefully chooses what to post. People curate everything on the internet. What to include in the photo, what’s a cute background or outfit and what’s the image they want to share online and with the world? To single out young men who adopt a certain aesthetic as “performative” is unfair. They’re simply participating in the same things as all of us do online.
So why has the target become performative males? Part of the reason is that they represent a shift in what masculinity looks like. For generations, men were expected to present themselves as stoic, simply unbothered by fashion or image. But celebrities like Harry Styles or Timothée Chalamet, who blur lines of gender norms through fashion and expression, have created new possibilities for young men. Suddenly, it’s not so rare for men to wear jewelry, crop tops and nail polish. It’s okay to care about what your Instagram feed looks like. For some people, it’s threatening because it challenges expectations of what “should” be.
The bigger issue isn’t whether someone is being performative; it’s why we’re so quick to judge. When we discuss performative males, we reinforce a culture where men are punished for trying new things or expressing themselves. That attitude fuels toxic masculinity, which tells men they must be tough, unexpressive and unchanging. We need to allow room for experimentation.
At the end of the day, performative males are just young men navigating identity in a digital world. They are testing aesthetics, figuring out who they want to be and yes, sometimes performing. But if we look closely, everyone online is performing in one way or another.
Instead of mocking, maybe we should recognize what performative males represent: a generation unafraid to try, to bend gender expectations, and to show that masculinity doesn’t have to be rigid. Because performative or not, self-expression is always real.
