There is a lot of attention on young men and toxic masculinity at the moment. It’s about time. The devastating Netflix drama Adolescence, about a 13-year-old boy accused of murdering a girl after being radicalised by the online manosphere, has drawn attention to the problem through the sheer force of its brilliant writing and a blistering lead performance from teenager Owen Cooper. Recently, former England football manager Gareth Southgate gave a speech about the state of boyhood in the UK, specifically about how young men, lacking moral mentors, are turning to gambling and video gaming, thereby disconnecting from society and immersing themselves in predominantly male online communities where misogyny and racism are often rife. There has been some kickback in the gaming press to the idea that games have provided a less-than-ideal environment for boys, but even those of us who have played and enjoyed games all our lives need to face up to the fact that gaming forums, message boards, streaming platforms and social media groups are awash with disturbing hate speech and violent rhetoric.
Honestly, we have known this for a while. The 2014 harassment campaign GamerGate, which claimed to be about a lack of objectivity in games journalism, but was really a reaction to increasing inclusivity and progressive thinking in game development, was a testing ground for the radicalisation of young white men by “alt-right” influencers and news outlets such as Breitbart. Many of the apparatus of online rightwing extremism, including mass harassment and doxing of victims, originated in that rancid cauldron, where female and LGBTQI+ game developers, and game-makers of colour, were made to fear for their lives.
It didn’t end there – toxic fandom has continued to dog the games industry. Developers of games who have sought to diversify their characters and narratives, or have simply delayed the launch of much-anticipated titles, have faced mass online abuse and death threats. A friend of mine, once the media-visible executive producer of a major game series, was forced to accept a police escort for him and his family for several days after fans of the game disagreed with several new features of the latest instalment. More recently, it’s been reported that members of the team working on Assassin’s Creed Shadows were told by the company not to mention their role in the production on social media in case they were targeted and harassed. Shadows received a huge online backlash when it was revealed that one of the two lead characters would be a black samurai. Trump didn’t come up with the idea of ludicrously misrepresenting the concept of diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) to appease right-leaning voters – toxic game communities have been doing this for years.
The worry, in the current maelstrom, is that the nuance of the problem will be lost. Even while condemning gaming communities that worship influencers such as Andrew Tate and Sneako, that belittle women and share “incel” and red pill philosophies, it is important to recognise the hugely positive roles that online communities can play in the lives of teenagers. As the father of an autistic teen, I have seen my son flourishing through contact with other players in games such as Minecraft and Warframe. The last thing we need from politicians and attention-seeking lifestyle gurus is a blanket philosophy that boys need to stop playing games or that all games are unhealthy – this isn’t about screen time, it’s not about getting boys to touch grass once in a while. We have to understand that our children are digital natives, as at home online as they are in any physical space – for many, there is no clear delineation. And honestly, if you’re shaking your head at how sad that is while spending hours a day perusing Facebook, Instagram or TikTok, then I don’t know what to say to you.
What can be done? Of course, the games industry has a responsibility – just like social media companies do – to monitor its communities and make them safe. Robust online moderation and the use of AI to monitor in-game chat for key slurs and subjects, are a vital part of combating the problem. But in the long term, the problem of abusive, antisocial young men won’t go away until we get to the source. Many young men in 2025 lack a sense of direction, identity and purpose. Traditional careers are disappearing; social changes are challenging historical masculine roles; mental health services are hard to access; city centres are dying. Whatever the truth of the matter, whatever we want to say about privilege, the world feels openly hostile to them. And into this vortex, come online influencers who will harness, direct and ultimately monetise that sense of hopelessness and rage, pointing it at easily identifiable targets – women, immigrants, “libtards”, beta males, and yes, the makers of progressive video games.
I have spent my whole career defending video games as a medium from those who seek to demonise the entire culture, but you simply cannot approach this subject without recognising that the games community – traditionally dominated by young men interested in violent power fantasies – is part of it. Young people often come to games to escape, to become virtual superheroes, but their vulnerability and lack of experience makes them targets and victims. It’s going to take more than one brilliant TV drama to get society to address this pressing problem, but when it does, the games industry is going to have to be a big part of the difficult conversations to come.
