On a warm, sunny Friday afternoon, I went to the bookstore and to Kerouac Alley to read and to check out what I thought would be a poetry meet-up. The post on Bluesky said, “we share poems (drafts, finished, someone else’s, all words are welcome) have a beer, then go to Golden Sardine to listen to the poets there.” I was expecting something more formal, something more organized, maybe something with a microphone and a sign or a sign-up sheet. Had I not been able to recognize the woman who shared the post from her profile picture, I wouldn’t have known that the group of four women sitting at the table in the shade by the door to Vesuvio were the aforementioned poetry enthusiasts. Shyness coupled with uncertainty got the best of me. I didn’t join them. I didn’t even approach them. I drank my beer, read for a bit, and then went to one of my favorite happy hour spots for a dinner of meatballs and cracker thin pizza.
But it wasn’t just shyness, and this isn’t really about a poetry group, or beers, or poetry, or how I spent a few hours on a beautiful Friday afternoon (so many beautiful Friday afternoons in SF). Part of what held me back was the fact that it was four women and I was feeling like I didn’t want to interrupt, or be the only guy in the group, or (pardon the funny vulgarity) insert my maleness into their klatch. I’m sure they were nice and would have been welcoming, but joining seemed awkward and could have been mistaken as a performative display/action.
Performative. That’s the mockingly dismissive term that has recently sprung up from our rapidly-changing and cynical meme culture. About two weeks ago, there was a “performative male” contest here in San Francisco. A few hundred people showed up. Contestants carried tote bags and books associated with feminism. It was covered in several major media outlets including the Chronicle. I glossed over the articles, cringed as I read, and moved on. Then, last week I saw a headline “Gen Z created a new type of man to avoid.” I thought, “Oh, cool more reasons to pass judgment and avoid each other.” A slightly deeper google dive reveals that mocking performative men is having a moment. A recent New York Times headline asked, “How Do You Spot a ‘Performative’ Male? Look for a Tote Bag” and the Independent asked, “Are men reading books for attention?” Additionally, performative male contests are taking place in cities and on college campuses across the country. The term has garnered enough attention as a cultural zeitgeist to have its own Wikipedia page:
The performative male, also known as the performative man or matcha man,[1] is an internet meme and term referring to an archetype of man which was popularized on social media in 2025. It generally involves displays of performative feminism, as well as emotional sensitivity.[2] Examples of such displays include reading books like All About Love by bell hooks, listening to indie female artists…
The Wikipedia article continues – citing a GQ article by Mahalia Chang in which she says the performative male,
“is doing his mating dance, puffing out his feathers, in pursuit of female attention. Think of our performative male like a female gaze caricature on steroids… The performative male is designed to look alluring and non-threatening and intelligent, to and for women.”
As someone who genuinely enjoyed reading All About Love (I wrote about it in 2023 when I first encountered the book) and as someone who believes toxic masculinity, as evidenced by the 10 million followers of self-proclaimed misogynist Andrew Tate, is rending our social fabric, I am, once again, disappointed by the lack of nuance on display in modern discourse. I am, once again, disappointed that we let genuine opportunities to understand each other slip away as we move, share, and post in favor of clicks, quick judgment, and reductive thinking.
Any person who pauses long enough to think about the nature of courtship or attraction would quickly, and rightfully, dismiss the word performative. When has the mating dance not involved some level of performance, puffing out feathers, competing for attention? And if we don’t like performance in dating or courtship, perhaps we should spend less time mocking it and more time talking about how to bypass performance in favor of more authentic connections? Moreover, a more serious conversation might consider what performative acts women undertake or why it is that in many cultures, men are the ones typically putting on the show and what it might look like to move away from that dynamic. A more forgiving conversation would consider the wisdom of trying to be what one hopes to attract, of putting out into the world what one wants to see in the world. Is being kind (because we want more kindness or to attract kindness) performative? Instead of mocking, a more helpful question would be why are men trying to attract “progressive” women? Or isn’t this another way of being able to identify the people with whom we might be compatible? It makes a certain amount of sense that the rise of bro culture and the manosphere would elicit an similar rise in the number of men trying to distinguish and distance themselves from that crowd. Yet another overlooked nuance is that what’s being called performative could just as easily be seen as an early stage of growth – a way to try on different personas in search of a truer or different version of the self.
I know this is expecting a lot from our modern discourse and our short attention spans. Moreover, such conversations often appear too serious when people are just trying to have a little fun with it. Thankfully, some real debate is taking place. Alongside those warning that the performative male is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, there have been calls for a more nuanced conversation. There are criticisms of these cynical quick takes and our current meme culture. Several people have suggested that this way of “othering” only reinforces traditional gender roles and the perception of the alpha male as the true definition of manlines, while others have suggested that criticizing men for reading may lead to anti-intellectualism. What seems clear is that we are, perhaps increasingly, struggling with how to connect with each other. At its core, the identification and vilification of the “performative male” is about failing to dig deeper, failing to understand another’s motives, and the blurring between what is real and what is fake. Perhaps this is yet another result of our relentless march towards a post-truth world, an artificial and not so intelligent world, an increasingly isolated world.
On a morning run, having already started this particular blog post, I tried to examine why I felt pulled to this subject. Why I felt as though this is just another example of how society seems to be heading in one direction and I simply want off the ride. I tried to examine if I felt like I, as someone who reads poetry (sometimes in public), was feeling called out or attacked. While I don’t read poetry in public as a way to attract women (most of my reading happens alone in my living room) I wouldn’t be upset if doing so in public allowed me to meet an attractive woman with similar interests. Is that performative? Is that any different than getting dressed up to go out? Or hanging out at coffee shops or wine bars or museums because you prefer the people at coffee shops and wine bars and museums? Or becoming a gym rat? Or writing up a dating profile in which one shares their hobbies or sense of humor or favorite bands? That’s what got me wondering about putting out into the world what you hope to receive back, of being what you wish to attract.
Occasionally interrupted by a song lyric or the audio voice telling me I was at a half-mile mark, the conversation went back and forth in my head. There were additional thoughts and complications such as, “how do we grow as human beings?” Attempts at learning begin in ignorance, often involve imitation, and benefit from proximity and continual re-examination. I looked down at my new running shoes. Someone might think I’m being performative with my running shoes – he’s not a runner (and I’d agree, I’m not much of a runner) he’s just trying to look the part. I thought about the person who is new to tennis or golf with brand new equipment. Are they being performative or simply going through the awkward phase of being a novice? And why do we feel the need to judge and/or label? Under the harshest lens, everything we do, wear, or purchase could be seen as a type of projection or performance. The guy or gal with the Porsche, the one with the Prius, the one with fancy clothes, the one in all black, the one with tattoos, the one with books… the bars and restaurants we go to, where we live, the music we like, the hobbies we pursue, the causes we care about. Where does the projection of who we are begin and and the real, authentic self end? Which of these things signal who we are or who we wish to be?
Before I knew it, I was hosting public conversations about authenticity and how we need to pull ourselves back from the brink of cynicism. Before I knew it, I was writing a book titled Morning Multitudes in which I try to examine our modern malaise – a book in which, ultimately, I implore us to abandon the quick meme in favor of deeper and more nuanced thinking… in which I implore us to look inward, cozy up to our hypocrisies, recognize when we’re projecting or deflecting, and move towards something a little softer and gentler. The run turned into a statement: if I could change one-thing, among the many things I’d like to change, this might be it: practicing non-judgmental living, learning to slow down and consider other alternatives, recognizing ourselves in others, practicing grace.
By the end of the run, I had to acknowledge that I don’t have much faith in modern society’s ability to stop this slide towards disconnectedness and lack of trust. The book would probably be seen as an extension of performative male fragility or whatever meme is in vogue at the time. Which sort of brings me back to a core belief that I frequently have to test, practice, and re-learn – a belief about authenticity and living/being the change we want to see in the world regardless of how it’s perceived by others. If we want a more just and equal society, one full of compassion and understanding, we would do well to drop the labels, shelve the snark, and dial back our righteousness in trying to call out and/or shame others. If we want a more trusting world, we have to be more trusting. If we want a world with fewer bad actors, we’d do well to free ourselves from the belief that everyone is a bad actor. To that end, I’ll continue to move through the world in ways that might attract people from my tribe and might influence others to slow down and look a little deeper at the people around them and let others think what they will about the performance.