Online Sexist Toxicity Is Tearing Men and Women Apart

Society must soundly reject relationship-killing worldviews if men and women are to build a future together.

In God in the Dock, C S Lewis coined a name for one of the most destructive habits of argumentation ever devised:

… I am going to write the biography of its imaginary inventor, Ezekiel Bulver, whose destiny was determined at the age of five when he heard his mother say to his father—who had been maintaining that two sides of a triangle were together greater than a third—“Oh you say that because you are a man.”

Lewis called it “Bulverism”: ad hominem dismissal that substitutes someone’s identity for engagement with their reasoning. Their sex supplies both explanation and verdict.

Online sexist toxicity on social media has made this habit a staple of relations between men and women, and its promotion of inflammatory ‘advice’ is tearing the sexes apart. It teaches us to forget that men and women’s capacity to complement one another is a source of genuine beauty in human life.

As worldviews that pit them against each other spread, the mutual trust through which stable, loving families are formed and young people grow into healthy adults is torn down. We lose the everyday delight of people loving, supporting and bringing out the best in one another.

The Worst Comes First

Social media puts betrayal, exploitation and humiliation centre stage. The worst examples become lessons about the opposite sex, establishing resentment before relationships even begin.

A 2021 study examined approximately 2.7 million social media posts and revealed that people were sharing more negative content than positive. Unfortunately, antagonism, not concord or unity, carried an engagement advantage.

The same pattern appears in content about relations between men and women. In a UCL-led experiment, researchers created TikTok accounts modelled on teenage boys interested in topics such as loneliness, masculinity and self-improvement. But as they watched the algorithm’s recommended videos over five days, the feeds increasingly shifted towards anger and blame directed at women.

Misogynistic recommendations—including objectification, sexual harassment and content discrediting women—rose from 13% to 56%. A self-development route had veered into attacking the opposite sex.

The viral “man or bear” question distilled this antagonism into a choice: would a woman rather encounter an unfamiliar man or a bear in the woods? Whatever individual respondents intended, a stranger’s sex became the centre of judgement—not their character, or personality, or values.

A prospective partner thus becomes a representative of an accused group, judged not by their own character, but by what others have done. Yet if applied to race, religion or other characteristics, we call this ‘prejudice’ and condemn it.

Because social media amplifies posts that attract controversy, the incentive is strong to produce material that provokes a reaction. Accusations against the opposite sex start arguments. Responses generate more heat, which feeds the content machine. Ultimately, people’s relationships suffer while those gaining the attention benefit.

That’s what makes us different from the bear. An animal can’t turn its fear into a self-sabotaging gender war.

The Flywheel of Contempt

Destructive influencers exploit desires that should draw men and women together: love, respect, security and companionship. They attract people struggling with rejection, loneliness or betrayal, then turn their hurt into resentment by teaching them to blame the opposite sex rather than judge individuals by their conduct.

Andrew Tate, for instance, presents sexism as a necessary recognition of reality. “There’s no way you can be rooted in reality and not be sexist,” he says. He has also described women as “intrinsically lazy”, making contempt for women part of the outlook men should cultivate.

Young man seeking confidence thus receive an education in prejudice. Singapore is not insulated from this influence: CNA has documented local concern about Tate’s popularity among school pupils.

SheRa Seven offers women a corresponding verdict: “Men do not love you, okay? So stop thinking that they do. They tolerate you. They lust you. That’s it.”

Rather than helping women distinguish a loving partner from an exploitative one, such advice tells them that the distinction does not exist. Men as a whole, it says, should be distrusted.

Audiences are fed carefully selected examples of the opposite sex at its worst and encouraged to mistake these for the whole. People are promised wisdom about relationships but served contempt for others instead.

The same toxic habit of turning one person’s experience into advice for everyone extends to marriage. In an October 2026 podcast, Alex Cooper and Sophia Bush discussed wives wondering whether they could find someone better if they left. “The answer is always yes,” Bush declared.

Notice the rhetorical trick here: Whether particular marriages should end magically becomes assurance that someone better always awaits outside yours. Women are taught that dissatisfaction is a good enough reason to break their families apart.

Toxicity in the Driver’s Seat

Concealed relationship tests carry another poisonous mentality into private life. The “name a woman” test is an example: “… women TikTokers ask their partners to ‘name a woman’. If they respond with any name other than the tester’s, the woman pretends to act shocked, surprised or angry.” Another move is the ketchup test, which has women deliberately creating a mess and recording a male partner’s response to being ordered to clean it.

Paid loyalty tests go a step further, recruiting strangers to approach partners and try to identify signs of disloyalty.

Even Singapore’s CNA Women has embraced a similar mindset in an article encouraging ‘microfeminism’: defaulting to ‘she’ for authority figures, redirecting school pickup calls to husbands, asking men what they cook, and assigning sons chores in the same way daughters are assigned them.

But look at the cost: a default hostility replaces ordinary routine with ideological tests. To be in such a person’s company becomes a perpetual compliance audit.

Yet the author boasts about the practice as a “blast”. It allows her to “filter” her social circle and discover who is “inexplicably offended” by her actions. Anything she does is good and right; any resistance must a sign of the patriarchy she fights. The destruction of her friendships becomes a victory over ideological impurity.

That leads towards misery and atomisation. Trust cannot flourish through policing supposed slights rather than understanding others.

Concealed tests, manufactured jealousy and public humiliation have no place in intimacy. They enact a modern Bulverism that wrecks ordinary, trusting life together.

Reclaiming Responsibility

The tragedy of these online movements is that they promise to help young people find true love, then train them to distrust anyone who might offer it. They explain frustrations, supply someone to blame and license selfishness as strength. They turn relationships into contests over who gains more or sacrifices less, undermining the generosity and trust on which love depends.

Young people need lived examples against which to test influencers’ claims. A young man who sees his mother treat his father with tenderness and respect has reason to question portrayals of women as inherently manipulative. A young woman who sees men honour their commitments at personal cost has reason to reject claims that men cannot love.

Such examples teach lessons that online commentary cannot replace: strength can serve others, fidelity requires sacrifice, and disagreement need not end in contempt. They also help young people distinguish an individual’s wrongdoing from the supposed defects of an entire sex.

Above all, they reveal what antagonistic narratives obscure: men and women can make life more beautiful through mutual care, complementary strengths, taking joy in raising children and shared responsibilities. Stable, loving families embody that possibility and give the next generation an education in trust.

Parents, schools, churches and community organisations have a responsibility to pass on these lessons. Young people need to understand what love, marriage and parenthood demand, and why healthy relationships require more than protecting their own interests.

Learning to recognise exploitation is necessary. It cannot replace learning to be trustworthy, generous and faithful yourself.