Is My Son An Incel? Adolescence, Andrew Tate And A Feminist Mother’s Worst Fears

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BERLIN — Years ago, I read an article about a mother who, caught up in her high-powered job, realized far too late that her child was being bullied at school. At the time, my two eldest kids were still in elementary school, and I remember thinking: That can’t happen to me. I’ll always stay close to my children. I talk with them every night, over dinner and before bed. We share stories, and sometimes those stories reflect something of ourselves.

My kids are now 3, 5, 11 and 13 years old. At least when it comes to the older two, I have to admit: I’ve lost track of what’s going on in their heads. I’ve recently come to understand that, like millions of other young people, they are exposed to racist and homophobic slurs, misogynistic propaganda and far-right influencers. It’s everywhere: in the content they consume online and in the schoolyard.

A recent OECD study shows that young people in Germany spend about 48 hours a week on their phones. At the same time, nearly 70% of mothers with kids under 18 are working. According to Germany’s Federal Statistical Office, the figure for fathers is as high as 92%. The new German government’s coalition agreement focuses on boosting productivity and growth. But it puts added pressure on parents, who are already high achievers, especially when Chancellor Friedrich Merz rails against the four-day workweek and the idea of work-life balance, as he did recently.

More work means even less time for family. Many parents, like my partner and I, already find ourselves working weekends. We often park the kids in front of the TV, the iPad or their phones. Because we, like so many others, assume they’re pretty safe there. That nothing bad can really happen while they’re online.

Biological right to women

How wrong we were became clear when my partner and our 13-year-old son watched Adolescence together. The British series, about a teenager who stabs to death a classmate, is one of Netflix’s biggest hits, with more than 60 million views. For weeks, the global media focused on the real subject of the show: the misogyny embedded in what’s called incel culture. Incel refers to men who are involuntarily celibate because, in their view, women are only interested in stronger, wealthier men and so leave them out.

One of the central beliefs of incel ideology is that men have a biological right to women. Another is that 80% of women are only attracted to 20% of men. Many who identify as incels feel abandoned by evolution and by women. For them, that’s reason enough to harbor a deep hatred of women.

The series also shows how the manosphere influences young people, especially boys. This is a loose anti-feminist network of forums and TikTok accounts that spreads misogynistic, chauvinistic, and transphobic content. One of its founders is British-American entrepreneur Andrew Tate, a former kickboxer and reality TV personality who is currently under investigation in both Romania and Florida for rape and human trafficking. The show gradually reveals how the main character was influenced by this kind of online misogyny.

Did you know your son knows who Andrew Tate is?

“Did you know your son knows who Andrew Tate is?” my partner asked me a few days ago. I had no clue. I’d been traveling for work for several weeks and had assumed my son would tell me about something like that. First I was shocked, then I started to reflect. There was something almost ironic about it: I’m the mother who reads from her feminist novels at public events and urges others to watch over their sons and daughters, while my own teenager sits at home glued to his phone, following shady ideologues.

I asked him about it right away, only to hear that Tate is “cool,” and I should just chill. The luxury cars and private jets Tate flaunts online were, in my son’s view, a lifestyle to admire. Then we talked about Adolescence, and why the boy in the series murdered his classmate.

“What do you think?” I asked him. My son thought for a moment. “I think she bullied him,” he said. I had to take a deep breath. He hadn’t understood the point in the series at all.

A joke here, a slur there

To my son, the violence in the show had no broader meaning — no link to misogyny or internet hate culture. He’s 13, and he still can’t make the connection between hateful speech and the incel content he sees online. For him, it’s just about who annoyed whom. That’s how he and his friends (and probably millions of teenagers around the world) understand their peer dynamics. Big-picture issues like tolerance, freedom and human rights are nowhere on their radar.

The boys in my son’s class have started calling each other “gay” if someone acts awkwardly or embarrasses themselves. They laugh off my warning that this is homophobic and unacceptable. It’s just a joke, they say. Even racist jokes are fair game, they argue, because their Asian or Arab classmates laugh at them too.

In art class, they search for banned content during internet research. At many German schools, chat groups include penis pictures and swastikas. My son tells me that girls are labeled “baddies” if they spend too much time with boys. It’s basically a modern version of calling someone a slut. And whenever I get upset, I’m told it’s just a joke that grown-ups don’t get. But it still matters.

To them, it’s all still a game.

Stand up to it: that’s probably what educators and experts would advise. But for me, a different instinct kicks in. I tend to hold back, afraid my son will stop confiding in me. And there’s another reason: I just don’t have the time right now. Between financial pressure, looming deadlines and my own ambition, all I manage is a quick, half-hearted scolding for my son and his friends.

To them, it’s all still a game, even though every one of these comments normalizes racist, sexist or homophobic ideas. And the damage adds up. A joke here, a slur there, and the seeds of a misogynistic worldview are planted.

“The girls have only themselves to blame if they go along with it,” a group of boys said on the subway the other day, just a seat away from me. My 11-year-old daughter told me about a boy in her class who was furious when a girl didn’t want to hang out with him. In that moment too, I found myself feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, unsure whether it was serious enough to step in.

Catching boys’ attention

Teen behavior today is eerily similar to the movies and pop culture I grew up with in the 1990s. U.S. writer Sophie Gilbert explores this in her book Girl on Girl, pointing to the seemingly harmless 1999 comedy American Pie. In it, small-town teens Kevin, Paul and Chris make a pact to lose their virginity before prom. Looking back, that plot reflects the attitude of many boys she knew at the time, Gilbert writes. Like Kevin, each of them was ready to emotionally manipulate girls for sex if it gave them an edge. “Despite its good intentions, an endearing comedy managed to establish the culture of sexual entitlement that metastasized in the 2000s,” Gilbert writes.

The damage is real. Girls are taught from a young age to present themselves for a patriarchal world where almost everyone might want something sexual from them. You can see it in last year’s summer hit “Bauch, Beine, Po” (Belly, Legs, Butt) by German pop star Shirin David, where she tells her fans to hit the gym to get a toned figure.

“If you’re a hottie, they’ll look,” goes one of the less forgettable lines in the song. My daughter knows it by heart, of course, as do all her friends. She also follows singers like Zahide and Ikkimel, who sing about French manicures and Prada shoes. Again and again, they declare how attractive they think they are, as if good looks were the ultimate currency. As if catching boys’ attention were something to aim for.

So what’s left is the hope that we adults start learning and paying attention.

All of this is what teenagers are bombarded with every day, glued to their phones, while their parents work nonstop. So what’s left is the hope that we adults start learning and paying attention. I’ve come to realize I need to reach my son through the media he consumes.

We recently watched a ZDF documentary about Andrew Tate together. My son was actually shocked when he found out about the human trafficking and prostitution charges. The documentary featured clips of Tate describing how he beat a woman. That, too, shocked my son. My son said he had no idea.

I was relieved. We talked for a long time about misogyny and about videos that incite violence. My son mostly just listened. I made the time for that conversation, setting work aside. And I came away thinking we might be able to speak more openly from now on. But I also know I have to stay vigilant. Every single day.