folio

Is Andrew Tate really to blame for an alleged rise in sexism and misogyny amongst young men, or is he just a convenient scapegoat for society-wide issues?

Not long ago, I noticed a worrying shift in a young man’s attitudes — misogynistic language creeping into his speech.

He doesn’t have access to Andrew Tate’s content, but something had clearly influenced him. The likely culprit? Peer influence.

Some of his friends may well be watching Tate, or others like him. But is it really fair to blame one man as our hysterical social commentators wish to?

In truth, this isn’t a modern phenomenon at all. I can still remember the deeply sexist comments I heard in the common rooms and corridors of college, over thirty years ago.

By the time I reached university, some male students were boasting of sexual conquests with a sense of entitlement that was hard to ignore.

There were laddish jokes, public rankings of women’s appearances, FHM magazine passed around, and the unspoken rule that sensitivity was weakness.

That continued into the workplace, where chauvinism and endless innuendo characterised the conversations of senior managers, while junior men pinned nude calendars to office walls.

If there is a difference now, it is only in the medium. Where once such ideas were passed along in person, they’re now amplified by social media — louder, slicker, and more pervasive.

There’s been much debate about figures like Andrew Tate and their influence. Some see him as the root of a new wave of misogyny, while others say he’s a scapegoat — a convenient target that distracts from wider societal failings.

In reality, of course, both can be true. Tate didn’t invent toxic masculinity, but he does monetise and promote it with exceptional skill.

As a shrewd businessman, he seems to tap into young men’s insecurities and frustrations, offering them a warped vision of confidence rooted in domination rather than empathy.

Some might say that the danger lies not just in his message, but in how easily it spreads through memes, clips, and conversation.

I would suggest he’s more a symptom than a root cause. Focusing all the outrage on one figure lets wider society off the hook.

Media and popular culture has been promoting these attitudes for generations. It requires a conscious effort to oppose these all-pervasive attitudes.

To break these cycles means modelling respect in our own relationships and language. It means challenging sexism early, even in its supposedly harmless forms.

It also means asking deeper questions about the social and cultural voids being filled by charismatic influencers. What do they offer that our homes, schools, and communities are failing to provide?

As a Muslim, I draw encouragement from the example of our Prophet, peace be upon him, who treated women with dignity, compassion, and honour.

He listened to their voices, sought their counsel, and praised their intellect. His example stands in stark contrast to the bravado and ego that dominate many online spaces today — including within our community.

In our personal lives, we’ve had a rocky few months that have tested us in unimaginable ways. In that period it was necessary to have difficult conversations about appropriate language and behaviour.

Alhamdulilah, the young man has calmed down a little. The heat in his comments has faded, offering hope that conversations matter. That guidance, when offered with care can still reach the heart.

But this isn’t a battle that ends with a single conversation. This is just where it starts. With awareness. With challenge. With compassion. And with the belief that another way is possible.

Perhaps a part of that is more realistic role models. Not astute businessmen monetising male bravado and frustration. Something more real: men who model dignified, honourable behaviour for all who come into contact with them.

Who will answer that call?