Introduction
Much has been written and discussed about the manosphere, or the online community of male supremacist groups and individuals. From conducting violent offline attacks to normalising gender-based violence, manosphere users’ virulent misogyny has rightfully generated considerable condemnation. In turn, the public’s increased interest in this community has contributed to the growing acknowledgement that misogyny is, indeed, a distinct extremist ideology. However, there is still insufficient discussion about online male supremacism beyond the four “key” manosphere groups: Involuntary Celibates, Men’s Rights Activists, Pick-Up Artists, and Men Going Their Own Way. Furthermore, the insufficiencies in the literature extend to high-profile “manfluencers” such as Andrew Tate. All of these movements and individuals are predominantly Anglophone and based in the Global North (GNA).
In addition, there is also minimal examination of how women champion male supremacy, especially within manosphere groups. Recent analyses of women-led anti-feminist movements, such as the “tradwife” community, shed important light on how some women uphold male supremacy. However, there is more to be learned about women influencers as members of manospheres: spaces that are dominated by men, hyper-focused on men’s issues, and notoriously hostile towards women. Unlike many anti-feminist women influencers, who tailor their content for a female audience and bond over shared gendered experiences, women manosphere influencers must appeal to a community that regards women with great scepticism. So, who are the women manosphere influencers? What kind of content do they produce?
This Insight examines content produced by two prominent and active anti-feminist YouTube influencers in the South Korean manosphere. It compares and contrasts the two influencers’ video themes and viewer engagement. In so doing, this Insight seeks to shed light on how women influencers spearhead anti-feminism and male supremacy in a non-GNA manosphere.
Gender (and) Politics in South Korea
Despite its rapid economic growth and wealth, South Korea continues to grapple with structural gender inequality across numerous measures. In terms of women’s economic standing, South Korea has the biggest gender pay gap among Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) countries. On average, South Korean women earned 31% less than their male counterparts, which is almost 20% higher than the OECD average of 11.4%. In terms of crime and gender-based violence, women comprise just over half of all reported homicides in South Korea, which makes it one of the highest gender ratios in the world. Online, South Korea is the country “most targeted by deepfake pornography,” which disproportionately affects women and girls. From rampant molka (spy cameras) abuses to an “explosion” in sexually exploitative deepfakes, digital sex crimes have reached the status of a “national emergency” in South Korea.
Despite such clear measures of gender-based inequality and violence against women, anti-feminism pervades throughout the country. Some, including the current President Yoon Seok Yeol, argue that structural discrimination against women no longer exists in South Korea despite robust evidence suggesting otherwise. Others contend that a group of so-called “radical feminists” have overblown the problem, or erroneously equate feminism with misandry or “female supremacism.” Still others claim that men are victims of “reverse gender discrimination.” Citing factors such as mandatory national service (only required for men) and gender quotas for certain government positions, they believe that men are the marginalised gender.
Debates on gender equality and women’s rights are core talking points in mainstream South Korean society and politics. Notably, young South Korean men — sometimes collectively called idaenam, or men in their twenties — are more likely to believe that men are discriminated against for their gender. In a 2021 opinion poll by Hankook Ilbo, 78.9% of men in their twenties and 70.9% of men in their thirties agreed that “discrimination against men is severe.” Across all generations, this age group showed the highest percentage of men who disagreed that discrimination against women is severe. In response, several conservative politicians have courted idaenam voters with campaign promises that legitimise their feelings of “reverse gender discrimination.” For instance, then-presidential candidate Yoon committed to shutting down the Ministry of Gender Equality & Family as a key campaign promise; while he did not fulfil this, he refused to appoint a minister. In his book Fair Competition, conservative New Reform Party leader Lee Jun Seok wrote that he hoped to give young men “the gift of a world free from radical feminism.”
A vibrant anti-feminist movement grew in this backdrop. Male supremacist communities thrived on Ilbe, a far-right imageboard similar to 4chan, and spread to other mainstream platforms. Adjacently, several women influencers achieved fame for their anti-feminist content. Some create content for like-minded women, drawing upon aesthetics and strategies similar to the GNA “tradwife” movement, and advocate for traditional gender norms through marriage and motherhood. Others produce work geared towards the manosphere and/or male viewers. This Insight examines two prominent anti-feminist women influencers of this genre. With 255,000 and 109,000 subscribers respectively, they boast a much smaller following compared to the main South Korean male supremacist YouTube channel (~500,000 subscribers). Nevertheless, they occupy a unique position in the manosphere for their commentary on gender issues as women.
The anti-feminism and male supremacism espoused by the two women influencers are not fundamentally different from that of their male peers. However, they add an additional dimension of justification to male supremacism by the nature of their gender identity. Their womanhood and femininity — which they take great pains to distinguish from supposed misandry and “anti-femininity” of feminists — imbue their message with a distinct credibility missing from “manfluencers.” In particular, I identify two distinct themes for their anti-feminism: aggressive posturing against femi (feminists) and racist misogyny.
“The Femi”: Aggressive Anti-Feminist Posturing
At a cursory glance, the two could not look more different. One assiduously hides her face and voice, using stock images and text-to-speech technology in her videos. She consciously targets male users of the manosphere by calling them oppa, or older brother. The other is comfortably in front of the camera, regularly hosts live video chats, and attracts viewers within and beyond the manosphere. Despite these differences, both influencers ground their work in critiquing and belittling the femi, a derogatory term for feminists. For instance, in her video “Misogyny, the Greatest Side Effect of Feminism,” one influencer argues that feminists, who “hate all men,” have “pushed” men to hate women. Although she rejects the tenets of GNA-originated Redpill ideology, she nonetheless blames feminism’s “corrosive” social influence for the rise in misogyny.
The women also find and belittle internet posts of women who express insecurities about their marital status, bodies, and personal regrets. Regardless of whether these women self-identify as feminists, one influencer generalises them as femi based on their perceived “feminist” behaviour (for example, setting ‘high’ standards for their partners) and uses their stories as cautionary tales for perceived limits and failure of feminism. For instance, she often discusses how feminism undermines the institution of marriage and specifically condemns women’s decision to remain single or marry later in life. By seeking out stories of women who post about their doubts, regrets, or frustration with singlehood, she disparages them for bringing misfortune upon themselves by behaving ‘like feminists.’
Translation: “Old unmarried women despair after failing to get married LOL” and “Only now do femis come around and want to date LOL.”
Both users also occasionally take a defensive stance against their critics by portraying themselves as direct victims of feminist-led harassment campaigns. In so doing, they maintain their reputation and ideological integrity in the eyes of their viewers. For example, one influencer suggests in one community post that she was forced to hide her face and voice due to previous harassment and abuse from femi users. The other furiously pushes back on a viewer who called her a banfemicoin, or an anti-feminist woman who allegedly capitalises on the feminist debate for fame and economic gains.
One influencer shares Instagram DMs accusing her of being a banfemicoin.
Racist Misogyny
Racism and xenophobia, especially in the context of interracial relationships, permeate across both channels. Both influencers accuse hannyeo and kimchinyeo (disparaging terms for South Korean women) of “betraying” South Korean men by setting unattainable relationship standards. Their condemnation of South Korean women is undergirded by the belief that they are inherently “picky” and “selfish,” which leads them to turn away “average” Korean men. Married Korean women aren’t portrayed in any more flattering light: by depicting them as neglectful wives and mothers, both influencers argue that South Korean women do not give their husbands the respect and appreciation they deserve. In turn, both influencers argue that their behaviour drives South Korean men towards interracial relationships: “Korean men have no choice but to marry women from other countries,” one laments.
However, the two influencers diverge on whether international and interracial marriages are a positive development. One considers it regrettable and draws on xenophobic and racist stereotypes about foreigners to convince her male viewers to “reconsider” entering into international relationships. “[Chinese immigrants] don’t think they’re Korean. They just want to increase the population for China,” she declares in one video, “It’s the same with Muslims…they take all of our social benefits.” Acknowledging the “dilemma” faced by her male viewers, she urges them to marry young South Korean women in their twenties, who she considers as more fertile and less “tainted” by feminism.
Translation (L-R): “Femis angry seeing men in international marriages”; “Hannyeo refusing to marry men then becoming jealous when they enter international marriages.”
Conversely, the other influencer celebrates interracial unions between South Korean men and non-Korean women, albeit also through a racist lens. She believes that “femis make it a priority to stop international marriages” and are “insanely jealous” of non-Korean women who marry South Korean men. In one video, she shares a story of a man happily married to a foreign white woman. She agrees with him that this would have been “impossible” with “money obsessed” South Korean women and portrays white women as preferable. “You can see modesty and kind mindset unseen in Korean women,” she claims, “something’s different about white women…Korean women are well-trained to extract their husbands’ money and run.”
Perhaps the most racist and dehumanising rhetoric spread by this influencer is Vietnamron (the Vietnam theory). Advanced by her and several other male supremacists, proponents of Vietnamron argue that it is “more cost-effective” for South Korean men to marry young Southeast Asian women. On one hand, South Korean women are painted as “inherently” shallow and delusional people responsible for South Korea’s declining birth rate and “crisis” of male singlehood. On the other hand, Southeast Asian women are offered up as “solutions” to the problem of male singlehood. This rhetoric is especially egregious as it draws upon harmful stereotypes about Southeast Asian women, especially those associated with Southeast Asian wives (sometimes derogatorily referred to as “mail order brides”) of rural Korean men. By depicting Southeast Asian women as accessible, willing, and submissive “alternatives” to old, selfish, and fickle South Korean women, she reduces both groups to mere solutions for Korean men’s romantic frustrations and fantasies.
Translation: “Vietnamron is the Truth” “What would be the reasons why [South Korean] men aren’t meeting women from their country and choosing international marriages instead.”
South Korean feminists and women’s rights activists face increased online harassment and violent threats. According to South Korea’s National Human Rights Commission, “women” and “feminists” are the two most common targets of online hate speech in the country. In the past four years, self-identifying and suspected feminists have experienced online and offline violence. As the trend shows no sign of slowing, there is an urgent need for tech companies to better understand the full range of threat sources directed at women and feminists.
To do this, tech companies should increase their expertise of non-GNA male supremacism on their platforms. Precise identification and culturally nuanced analysis are critical for tech policy teams when developing global policy standards, content moderation procedures, and escalation practices. Absent this, we may inappropriately employ GNA-based framing to non-GNA groups or miss key insights—such as looking at women as influential purveyors of misogyny in certain manospheres.
Culturally nuanced analyses will also help tech companies identify how exactly different misogynistic communities disseminate misogyny in their specific cultural contexts. As this Insight illustrates, women manosphere influencers in South Korea do not share all of the key features of their prominent GNA anti-feminist peers. If tradwives project accessibility and sisterhood to mobilise and radicalise women, women manosphere influencers do not address women and aggressively posture against femis using racist and misogynistic slurs. In sum, examining how different anti-feminist movements harm women and feminists will improve tech companies’ efforts to counter online misogyny.
Ye Bin Won (she/her) is a researcher of digital extremist communities. Her research focuses on male supremacist groups, Christian supremacist movements, and violent extremist families. She most recently worked at Moonshot as an associate, and has presented her research at avenues such as the Eradicate Hate Global Summit, 29th International Conference of Europeanists, and the Canada Centre for Community Engagement and Prevention of Violence. She earned her Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees from Georgetown University’s Walsh School of Foreign Service. Ye Bin is a 2024-2025 GNET Fellow.