Louis Theroux’s documentary, Inside the Manosphere, dropped on Netflix a few days after International Women’s Day. Adopting his classic trademark awkward demeanour, Theroux bumbled along with some of the most controversial personalities associated with toxic masculinity.
Theroux’s doc was intended to shock, and it did, but not necessarily for the reasons intended, from the dehumanisation of women to the ‘bargaining’ of men of colour for a seat alongside the so-called elite. It was hard not to see how the manosphere serves as a blueprint for modern global leadership.
Theroux spoke with several men of colour in his doc, although this aspect of race and internalised racism within the manosphere was largely overlooked.
One of Theroux’s main “macho men” was Myron Gaines, of Sudanese descent, born as Amrou Fudl. Myron is one of the most influential voices in the manosphere, spouting his far-right ideology from his podcast Fresh&Fit.
Like many of the men featured in the doc, Gaines could once be categorised as a lost man of society, coming from a poor immigrant family in a capitalist world, whose family had to work hard to make ends meet.
The whitewashed leader
Gaines, a former US agent for the Department of Homeland Security, made his argument on masculinity very clear to Louis, who stood beside him in the fully-kitted-out podcast studio.
Theroux pulled up a clip on his phone of Gaines shouting into his mic, talking about women, saying “B!tch we ain’t equal I am the dictator and you are the subordinate [...].”
The camera pans to Gaines, who laughs at the footage and takes a swig of his drink. He follows up by saying to Theroux, “I need guys to have this mindset where you are the leader, and you are assertive.”
The entire manosphere thrives off these hierarchies, the men above women patriarchy roadmap. What adds an extra dimension to Myron’s spiel is that he is a man of colour yet he’s fighting for male power within a white-dominated system.
This is the same theoretical bargain made by politicians who trade their community's interests for personal political advancement . A running theme in British and American politics, with Marco Rubio, Byron Reynolds, Suella Braverman, and Sahabana Mahmood, to name a few.
The illogical ‘Brown Pill’
The manosphere uses the term "Brown Pill" to make toxic masculinity palatable for Black and Brown communities. But before you breathe a sigh of relief, this Brown Pill logic is just as contradictory as the rest of the different manosphere pills. While it seemingly focuses on the experiences of men of colour, it clings to an anti-feminist agenda that scapegoats Black women for the alleged disempowerment of men.
This movement is deeply tied to multiracial whiteness: a phenomenon where people of colour uphold white supremacist structures in exchange for power. The figures are staggering: in the US, multiracial whiteness is believed to have grown by 276% between 2010 and 2020.
Similarly, a 2025 YouGov survey found that UK-born ethnic minority adults are significantly more likely (24%) than white adults (10%) to hold restrictive, "white-only" definitions of national identity.
A prime example is US politician Vivek Ramaswamy. Born to Indian immigrants, he has become a key vessel for anti-immigrant rhetoric. He explicitly rejects systemic racism, labelling it "Wokeism" and a "religion of the left." Instead, he promotes "heritage Americanism,” prioritising those with "blood and soil" roots. An immigrant’s son championing the very rhetoric designed to exclude him, all to secure his own status within the hierarchy.
Shadowy elite obsession
Inside the Manosphere, centred heavily on the metaphor of the Matrix, this reference is the movement's founding conspiracy theory.
Manosphere influencers or the Red Pill members claim that modern society is deceiving us and is biased against men. The glaring irony is that while the manosphere claims to hate shadowy elites, its followers effectively serve as foot soldiers for those who occupy the top seats while blaming the vulnerable in society for all that’s wrong with the world.
Both US and UK politics have weaponised this rhetoric. Trump has long used dehumanising language like “illegal aliens” for immigrants and “ deranged " for Trans people. Meanwhile, in the UK, the Labour government has recorded the highest-ever immigration raids, up by 77% since 2024, rather than addressing the structural inequalities of the cost-of-living crisis. These strategies direct public anger toward the vulnerable rather than the billionaires and corporate interests shaping the economy. By providing this distraction, the manosphere functions as a shield for the elite while simultaneously mirroring their most predatory habits. Its prototypes are known for leaning into the cushty benefits granted to those at the top, with impunity being the most sought-after perk.
Theroux highlighted numerous incidents where infamous influencer Harrison Sullivan, known as HSTikkyTokky, was inciting violence that turned into physical abuse, all caught on camera by his own crew, chopped up into clips to share with his millions of viewers. Not to mention the court case HSTikkyTokky is in the midst of for dangerous driving. Yet he gave off an untouchable, nonchalant vibe to Theroux, shrugging it off as no big deal.
Alarm bells rang for the millionth time during this 90-minute doc. A blaringly obvious parallel to the Epstein Files , where we see world leaders with dozens of allegations, yet they remain calm and collected, arrogantly knowing they are untouchable.
Reflecting on the doc reveals a harsh reality. If we continue to treat the manosphere merely as a subculture, we are failing to recognise the dangerous fact that it has long infiltrated society, the political landscape, and the way we view violence against women and girls. Olivia Hooper is a British journalist based in Morocco specialising in humanitarian and gender-based topics, writing for Middle East Eye and Al-Monitor, among others. Have questions or comments? Email us at: editorial-english@newarab.com Opinions expressed in this article remain those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of The New Arab, its editorial board or staff.