I Will Not Obey My Husband. The Rise Of The Manosphere Is Terrifying For Women

The autonomy many of us take for granted was once a radical, hard-won dream for the women who came before us. Feeling like we’re moving backward is heartbreaking. I will never obey my husband, and I refuse to become a woman who repackages 1950s-style subservience as a way of living. 

Over the years, the manosphere has grown into a digital ecosystem of podcasts and TikTok clips that serve as a mouthpiece for the misogynistic ideologies of hyper-muscular influencers. The message being broadcast to millions of men is clear: a woman’s autonomy is an affront to nature, her career is a distraction from her "true" purpose (which is being in the kitchen and having babies by the way), and her refusal to obey men is the root of all modern societal decay. This rhetoric has always been there, but it once lingered on the edges of the internet, tucked away in obscure Reddit threads. Now the manosphere has rebranded, posing as a mainstream lifestyle for sad men to find a sense of “purpose.” Louis Theroux’s documentary Inside the Manosphere exposes a deeply regressive blueprint: one where men control the finances and expect women to stay home, where some men believe women shouldn’t be allowed to vote, and where a partner’s loyalty is demanded without reciprocity, a one-sided version of non-monogamy that is normalised.

According to Dr Stephanie Wescott, a feminist academic researcher at Monash University who specialises in misogyny and gender-based violence, the manosphere functions as a reactive shield against women’s progress. "It isn't just about men wanting to be manly, it's about a coordinated pushback against the fact that women have stopped asking for permission to exist."

This pushback is rooted in a perceived, rather than actual, loss of power. "There is a huge response, I think, to the perceived unfairness of women’s advantage in society," Wescott notes. “This isn't based on reality; women still face significant pay gaps, the mental load at home, and systemic barriers, but it is based on a profound sense of male loss. Everything actually belongs to men and boys, and then when we share a little bit of that, they believe we take what belonged to them in the first place."

This perceived theft of "manhood" has created a vacuum that influencers like Andrew Tate and his countless clones have filled with hate. They sell a version of masculinity that is entirely dependent on the suppression of femininity. In this world, a ‘high-value man' is defined by his ability to command a ‘submissive' woman. The terrifying part isn't just that these men exist; it’s that their content is boosted by the very algorithms we use to navigate our lives. "It is mainstream social media content," Wescott says. "It is built into algorithms to find its way to all boys and young men. It has slowly become more and more normalised. When hatred is optimised for engagement, it stops looking like extremism and starts looking like common sense."

The reach of this ideology is no longer confined to the web. "The manosphere is unique because, while its ideas are extreme, they aren't isolated to a fringe group. It is everywhere," Wescott continues. "It’s in our schools, it’s on commercial television, and it has slowly become more and more normalised. Strategies used to expose the hypocrisies of traditional extremist groups simply haven’t worked here because that’s not how these ideas are landing in our society anymore."

The entry point into this world is often deceptive. Wescott points out that the manosphere exists on a spectrum where an entry point might be as simple as seeking fitness advice or motivation, which can lead to its own harms like disordered eating or dangerous exercise routines. "But then there is the more sinister, extreme end where the degradation of women is justified as entertainment. We see this in popular podcasts where women are brought on for a fair exchange of labour, but in reality, it is a deeply unequal opportunity to humiliate them for views. It is a space where drivers of violence against women are fuelled and rationalised."

For British OnlyFans creator Bonnie Locket, who previously collaborated with manosphere influencer HSTikkyTokky, the main creator featured in Inside the Manosphere, these dynamics aren’t theoretical; they are deeply personal. “One thing that struck me is how comfortable some men are consuming our content while still criticising us,” she says. “They want access to women’s bodies, women’s attention and women’s labour, but they still want to sit in judgement over the women providing it.”

Bonnie experienced this firsthand when working with the influencer, recalling how he lied about having sex with her for attention and his own benefit. “One thing the documentary reminded me of is how easily narratives about women get created and spread online. The content we filmed together was completely safe-for-work, but it was later framed in a way that suggested something else had happened. The problem is that women then have to deal with the consequences of those stories, even when they’re not real. It shows how easily women’s names and reputations can be turned into content.”

This exploitation of women's autonomy is a central theme of the manosphere’s hypocrisy. “The idea of profiting from women on OnlyFans while saying you would disown your own daughter for doing it says a lot about how society still sees women’s autonomy,” Bonnie explains. “If it’s acceptable when it benefits you financially, but unacceptable when a woman in your own life makes that choice, then the issue clearly isn’t morality, it’s control.”

The manosphere often markets itself as a cure for a "loneliness epidemic" among men, suggesting that if they are struggling, it is because women have become "too difficult" or "too independent." But Bonnie Locket argues that this cure is built on a foundation of deep-seated insecurity. "The real issue is insecurity," she says. "When people feel threatened by women having agency over their own bodies, careers, and choices, that’s when these extreme attitudes start appearing."

“A relationship built on obedience isn't a partnership; it’s an exercise in management. It merely masks loneliness with power, robbing men of the chance to have healthy relationships by teaching them to be wardens instead of partners,” says Bonnie. Dr Wescott agrees, noting that "the algorithm often makes the decision for these young men. If they are feeling vulnerable or lonely, and someone presents them with a simple three-step formula for success as a man, that is incredibly seductive. We don’t often get a script for success in life, and these influencers exploit that vulnerability."

However, Wescott insists we must look past the lonely explanation. "Why do men continue to find power, control, and even violence against women justifiable in exchange for personal benefit? Those are the questions we aren't asking enough." She argues that we are living in a post-truth era where established social norms are treated as contestable. "Historically, whenever one group achieves an advancement in their rights, there is a predictable backlash from those who perceive that progress as a personal loss. The default assumption in these spaces is that power and advantage naturally belong to men and boys. When we begin to share that space through diversity and equity initiatives, it is viewed as taking away something that was theirs by right."

The consequences of this cultural shift are playing out most alarmingly in our education system. "Our research in schools shows that girls are being robbed of their entitlement to an education free from daily misogyny and sexism," Wescott says. "They are either being treated differently by boys influenced by these ideas, or they are being worn down by hearing this rhetoric spoken about constantly." Teachers report boys as young as 11 quoting "alpha" influencers to their female peers, asserting dominance before they’ve even learned algebra. This is the grooming of a generation to view half the population as inferior.”

Wescott argues that our public response to this has been dangerously insufficient. "One of the most dangerous ways we handle the rise of the manosphere is by treating it as a fascinating trend to be debated on morning talk shows. We treat it with a level of detached curiosity that erases the harm it inflicts on actual people. It’s quite degrading, actually, to the people affected by misogyny to sort of treat it with this curiosity. Like, 'I wonder why people enjoy doing yoga? Let’s find out.' It’s not the same thing."

When we debate whether a woman should "obey" her husband as if it’s a valid philosophical stance, we are telling young girls that their safety and autonomy are subject to the whims of men. When we have the opportunity to challenge these ideologies, and we don't, we aren't just observing, we are adding to the harm."

To address this, Wescott calls for a massive overhaul in education and policy. "We need to do a lot more in terms of violence prevention education. While we have programs like 'Respectful Relationships' designed for this, they aren't being implemented as they should be or resourced effectively. We must equip young people with the skills to critically understand what they are seeing online, while establishing better policies and procedures to ensure a consistent response when this behaviour arises. That response must involve behavioural consequences to signal that the behaviour itself is unacceptable and that the safety of others matters."

"We need to demonstrate to boys and young men with misogynistic tendencies that this is absolutely unacceptable, as it leads to a life of hate that damages both themselves and everyone around them," Wescott concludes. "If we fail to respond, we aren't just allowing this behaviour; we are essentially enabling it." For women like Bonnie Locket, the path forward is clear: “It just reinforces how important it is that women speak for themselves and keep control of their own narrative, because otherwise someone else will happily write it for them.”