Thinking Out LoudAndrew Tate – businessman, social media personality, former kickboxer and self-professed misogynist – has found a massive audience in recent years by telling boys and young men exactly what they want to hear:
“You can be important and powerful”
“Your problems are someone else’s fault”
“You deserve to get what you want”
Tate drives expensive cars, smokes expensive cigars, sleeps with attractive women and keeps himself in great physical condition. His image is one of ultra-masculine, hyper-consumerist indulgence.
It’s an intoxicating message to young men who are increasingly finding themselves isolated, disenfranchised, and searching for guidance.
To me, it always seemed crass. Even aside from Tate’s frequently shocking comments about women, Jews, the LGBT+ community and others, and without delving into the numerous credible allegations against him of violence and sexual abuse, the kind of excess he champions always seemed brutish and off-putting to me.
To a thirteen-year-old boy, maybe not so much.
I worry for my sisters, still in primary school, whose male classmates are budding Andrew Tates. I worry for my brother, a junior rugby player, surrounded by other young men only a year or two out of high school in a very masculine profession.
It’s scary to imagine a society based on Tate’s values.
Tate’s worldview is entirely self-centred, materialistic, and domineering. It looks down on any form of kindness or empathy – weakness or vulnerability forbidden in a “might makes right” world.
It’s the polar opposite of the worldview Jesus preaches – one of empathy, forgiveness, and putting others before yourself.
It’s natural that young men want to be validated – and a success story like Tate makes sense as a role model. But you can’t be thirteen forever, and growing up you realise the selfish path is the easy one. It’s the path of empathy that makes a difference.
This Thinking Out Loud was first published on Facebook.