By: Koh Shin Robbie (26A01A) and Tara Sim Yue (26A01C)

The term “performative male” is one that has been inescapable for the past few months—uttered from the lips of the friends around us and a hot topic of conversation in every corner of the internet, the performative male has become an iconic caricature on social media of a specific archetype of men.

Known for drinking matcha lattes, wearing wired earphones while they listen to Beabadoobee and Clairo, and reading feminist literature, why is this particular breed of men being metaphorically pelted with tomatoes?

Photos courtesy of https://elle.in/life-culture/what-is-the-performative-male-epidemic-9606966

Simply put by Elle India, “The performative male isn’t here to be better, he’s here to be perceived as better”. There’s nothing wrong with liking all things deemed “performative”.

The issue arises when things like reading feminist literature and listening to artists with a primarily female listener base stray away from  genuine interest and instead become props—when men curate an aesthetic specifically engineered to fit the “female gaze”. These men shape themselves into what they believe is the ideal of “what women really want”, rather than cultivating genuine authenticity, in hopes of attracting attention. 

Are we all secretly performative?

The idea of separating oneself from the rest by socially curating yourself to appear as unique or “better” in order to attract romantic interest is certainly not a new one. With past waves of “pick-me girls” and “nice guys”, it’s clear we love labelling any behaviour that feels fake or self-serving.

However, in today’s world, where social media is ubiquitous and everyone walks around with a top-of-the-line video camera in their pockets 24/7, it’s unavoidable that we subconsciously feel the need to “perform” at all times for others, even when we aren’t on our phones. We put songs in our Instagram notes, we tailor our social media feeds to be aesthetically pleasing, and present a persona that we want to show others.

Isn’t it natural, then, that this would influence the way we act in real life? In a way, all of us are performing all the time for others to perceive us in a specific way we desire. 

Our actions are responses to the social feedback we receive around us, and this isn’t something we should be afraid of recognising. Praise and contempt both have their behavioural functions, none of which are inherently positive or negative.

A little praise goes a long way in affirming one’s efforts (think back to the last time someone commented on your stunning outfit!), just as healthy contempt can signal one to behave more appropriately (maybe your language came off as insensitive!).

Likewise, excessive praise can inflate one’s ego or lead one to chase superficial validation, just as how scathing contempt can destroy one’s sense of self. As social beings, these cues are everywhere, and may actually benefit our personal growth. What underlies this feedback-consciousness though is mindfulness— knowing when to take the praise, and when to reject baseless contempt.

The reality with performative males

Admittedly, exposing performative behaviour or calling out deceptive facades can feel empowering or rewarding—like saying “I can see right through you”. Yet, by labeling this group of men as performative, we indirectly imply that the only reason a man might dress a certain way or listen to certain artists is because he’s being duplicitous—and in doing so, we reinforce the idea that men should only look and act in one, narrowly defined, antiquated way, and this carries its implications.

Nestled amongst us in the student body of RI live so-called “performative males” too. Speaking with them, it was interesting to see how they immediately recognised which attributes of their behaviour were signallers of “male performativity”.

Yet, they found the social labelling a confusing ordeal, especially when their interests in baggy jeans or rock climbing were nothing out of the norm to them. When asked if this labelling had tangibly impacted their social life, though, it was heartening to know that the answer from most was a resolute no. 

In an age where labels are made and imposed in every aspect of our lives, it is noteworthy that we have developed a sensitivity to pinpoint the validity of such claims. One particular Rafflesian “performative male” claims his behaviour was not problematised, simply because his peers knew there was no inherent issue of disguising any hypermasculine behaviour. 

When presented with a deluge of media reports on the larger picture of the sensation, or perhaps its social undertones, it is easy to be caught up in this frenzy over male identities at play. In this, we lose sight of the small picture—our own sense of self. 

“The big ‘25” is coming to a close, and we’ve already seen “six-seven” different trends come and go. If performative males simply engage in activities that they are genuinely interested in and dress in the style they actually like, instead of feigning interests, behaviours and appearances that they think appeal to women, they could actually become more well-liked, sincere—and ironically, more attractive.

So wear whatever you want, listen to whatever you want and drink whatever you want, but make sure it is what YOU want. In the words of one Rafflesian “performative male”, 

Sassy as it is, he has a point. Changing who you are to impress others might work in the short term (though even that can be argued against), but what’s the point if you end up losing who you really are in the never-ending process of chasing that ideal? You go, boy. Drink that strawberry matcha latte.

Special thanks to Bharat from 26A01B for sharing some observations of the phenomenon!