Abstract
Debates are ongoing about the harm misogynistic online communities pose to young men’s identity and understanding of masculinities. This study aims to nuance our understanding of the online incel community by analysing 14 interviews with young men from five different continents who identify or formerly identified as incel or involuntary celibate. I use a subcultural theoretical framework, and my analysis identifies three forms of subcultural involvement of incels, varying from being all-encompassing, active participation and loose attachment. Drawing on the concept of digital drift, including insights from both traditional and post-subcultural traditions, I show how incels can flexibly drift across categories, changing their level of involvement and attachment to the incel subculture over time. The article highlights the need for more direct, critical engagement with young men involved in the incel subculture to account for the various ways these young men interact with this online phenomenon.
Introduction
I might still keep posting and asking, but I don’t see myself doing like a deep dive or getting really into the culture…. I would still stay like a fringe part, or fringe observer of the [incel] community.
—Jacob (29)
In the last couple of decades, progressive masculinities have been emerging in many Western countries, particularly among young men, with more liberal ideas towards gender and sexuality than older males (Flood, 2015). However, some young males are unsupportive of women’s rights and gender equality (Off et al., 2022). They instead participate in misogynistic online communities, often collectively referred to as the manosphere, which expresses male entitlement, antifeminism and gendered cyberhate (Ging, 2019; Johanssen, 2022). Within these online spaces, the community of incels, short for involuntary celibate, men gather commiserating about their inability to obtain sex with women. Incels have been gaining mainstream notoriety due to misogynistic incel groups who target women, promote male supremacy, violence and celebrate mass murderers (DeCook & Kelly 2022).
While incels often contend that they do not constitute a subculture or a political ideology, applying subcultural theory can elucidate the symbolic and cultural dimensions of incel identity formation and the fluid dynamic nature of their digital engagement. Viewing incels as a subculture highlights how the phenomenon is shaped in opposition to mainstream society, offering alternative environments to live out a deviant or marginalized identity. Adopting a subcultural framework also highlights the ways of involvement people have with the incel phenomenon. It reveals why participation in incel communities may be perceived as meaningful and, to a degree, rational by its members, despite external criticism, while recognizing that the group’s collective ideology is fundamentally rooted in male supremacy (e.g. Kelly et al., 2022; O’Donnell & Shor, 2022).
People self-identify with or understand their incel identity in various ways (Andersen, 2023). Despite its perception as a distinctive group (Jasser et al., 2020), the incel subculture is not homogenous but multifaceted, which includes different subgroups and non-violent men. As the quote above indicates, some have looser affiliations and are less dogmatic or ideologically invested, even though they participate in incel spaces. For these men, it is crucial not to overdo their subcultural identity to avoid social stigma and exclusion (Goffman, 1965). While their subcultural spectacle is overt and visible online, incels generally hide their incel identity or affiliation to the incel community from friends, family or colleagues offline, to avoid being inextricably associated with misogynistic or violent incels (Lounela & Murphy, 2023; Prøitz et al., 2022). The activity on incel forums varies greatly and includes highly active super-posters (Baele et al., 2022) but also have seemingly low member retention as ‘many only stay active for a short while before no longer posting’ (Pelzer et al., 2021, p. 213). Thus, young men’s participation in online incel spaces has different degrees of involvement and meaning due to the incel subculture’s transnational, digital, anonymous and fleeting nature.
The internet redefines a symbolic interactionist perspective that views culture as created and maintained through repeated face-to-face interaction among individuals (Carter & Fuller, 2015). Subcultural researchers have traditionally focused on deviance and resistance to explain groups of people, with subcultures viewed as a cultural and collective response to a marginal position limited by space and time (Blackman, 2014; Gelder, 2005). In continuing subcultural research, proponents of the recent post-subcultural turn consider subcultures as fluid and fragmented due to globalization, media influence and digital changes (Bennett, 2011). Substantial subcultural engagement now unfolds within digital spaces (Haenfler, 2022), where the digital ecosystem of subcultures fosters the movement and fluid transition—of digital drift—among diverse cultural identities and sites (Goldsmith & Brewer, 2015).
In this article, I analyse 14 interviews with young men who identify or formerly identify as incels. The interview participants’ everyday engagement and connections with the incel subculture varied significantly, reflecting both a way of positioning themselves within the sexual market and a subjective political identity project. I use a subcultural theoretical framework, including traditional and post-subculture perspectives, to explain how the involvement of incels varies from stringent and committed to fluid and temporal. My analysis draws on the concept of digital drift to describe how the spectrum of involvement within the incel subculture varies from being all-encompassing to active participation and loose attachment, which notably change over time.
Subcultural Theory and Digital Drift
Subculture usually refers to individuals sharing commonalities that unite them in non-normative ways. Although there are numerous definitions, Gelder (2005, p. 1) encapsulates subcultures as:
[…] groups of people that are in some way represented as non-normative and/or marginal through their particular interests and practices, through what they are, what they do and where they do it. They may represent themselves in this way, since subcultures are usually well aware of their differences, bemoaning them, relishing them, exploiting them and so on. But they will also be represented like this by others, who in response can bring an entire apparatus of social classification and regulation to bear upon them.
Originating in the US-based Chicago School during the 1950s, researchers traditionally explained subcultures as groups opposing or inverting mainstream society’s dominant values, norms, traditions and culture (Blackman, 2014). Their urban ethnography focused on the marginal and deviant, using the concept of subculture to understand youth groups’ engagement with ongoing class struggles (Becker, 1963; Cohen, 1955; Matza, 1964). They interpreted the creation of deviant subcultures as a response to social problems and an attempt to alleviate ‘status frustration’ among members (Cohen, 1955). In the 1970s, the British Birmingham School (CCCS) refined the concept, framing subculture as collective resistance articulated through creative consumption, manifesting via rituals, language and style (Cohen, 1972). This shift highlights class inequality resistance and offers a political interpretation of subcultural youth, viewing subcultural resistance as largely symbolic and expressed through provocative but significant styles, in contrast to conventional collective protest methods (Haenfler, 2022; Williams, 2011).
Subcultural theory posits that subcultures arise as collective responses or an ‘imagined solution’ to social experiences, with the Chicago school emphasizing deviance and the CCCS focusing on resistance (Blackman, 2014; Cohen, 1972). Though influential in youth culture studies, critics argued that the theory over-emphasized class, neglected the banality of everyday life and overstated subcultural uniformity and commitment (Irwin, 1977). Feminist critiques also highlighted the theory’s lack of gender analysis, earlier subcultural theory tended to be male-centric, often disregarding the presence and participation of females within subcultures (McRobbie & Garber, 1976), and paid little attention to misogyny and masculinism (Frosh et al., 2002).
In the 1990s, subcultural studies were reconceptualized as scholars noted the fluidity in youth culture due to fragmented youth styles (Hodkinson, 2016). Clear distinctions between elements like ‘style, musical taste and identity’ (Bennett & Kahn-Harris, 2004, p. 11) diminished. Post-subcultural scholars departed from the class-based focus, describing contemporary youth cultures as characterized by their fleeting nature, transient and centred on individual lifestyles and consumption (Shildrick, 2006). Online environments further complicate subcultural identities by enhancing their fluidity and temporality, facilitating large, fast, trans-local spaces that make ‘ideas, style, music, technology, and capital circulate and collide in complex ways, and on a scale and with speed previously unimaginable’ (Muggleton & Weinzierl, 2003, p. 7).
While not a ‘unified body of work’ (Muggleton, 2005, p. 214), post-subcultural scholars introduced terms to describe evolving youth cultures, including ‘tribe’ or ‘neo-tribe’, ‘lifestyle’ and ‘scene’ (Bennett, 1999; Irwin, 1977). Post-subcultural theory emphasizes individual fluidity and temporality, acknowledging that subcultural participation can be partial and variable, ‘while still recognizing the collective dimensions of youth cultural groupings’ (Bennett & Kahn-Harris, 2004, p. 12). Nevertheless, post-subcultural theory faced criticism, particularly for overlooking power dynamics and social structures such as class, race and gender inequalities, which continue to profoundly influence youth’s lives (Shildrick, 2006). More recent iterations of subcultural theory, or neo-Birminghamian conceptions (Jensen, 2018), have incorporated gender, race, intersectionality and masculinity considerations (Haenfler, 2022; McRobbie, 2000).
Drawing on both traditional and post-subcultural insights, I introduce ‘digital drift’ in this study to better understand the complex interplay of distinct identity creation and diverse engagement within incel subcultures online. This concept enables comprehension of the ambiguities and intricacies of incel identities, as it recognizes the relevance of group identity emphasized in traditional subcultures combined with the changing nature of post-subcultural affiliations and identities, particularly in the digital context. According to Matza (1964), most youths do not fully socialize into delinquent habits; rather, depending on the situation, they engage in delinquent and non-delinquent activities. Matza (1964, p. 28) describes the delinquent as ‘transiently exists[ing] in a limbo between convention and crime’. In this state of ‘drift’, situational factors can ‘loosen’ the constraints on the delinquent’s decisions and behaviours (Matza, 1964, p. 28). Exposure to delinquent peers and belief systems that allow individuals to rationalize or dismiss involvement in crime loosens control significantly (Holt et al., 2019). Goldsmith and Brewer (2015) reconceptualize Matza’s concept of drift with the notion of ‘digital drift’ to include how the internet has changed how crime is organized and committed. They argue for re-examining ‘the understanding of criminal commitments’ as social interactions have become increasingly mediated and fluid, complicating our understanding of criminal interactions and identities (Goldsmith & Brewer, 2015, p. 113). Echoing Matza’s drift theory (1964, p. 29), individuals may drift into and out of criminal behaviour due to weakening social controls, with crime among young people often being ‘accidental or unpredictable’. The connectivity of the digital landscape enables the formation of niche online communities, with group members creating and maintaining norms and values in contrast to mainstream perspectives (Holt et al., 2019).
The Online Incel Subculture
The incel community historically originated with a queer female student from Canada in 1997, who established Alana’s Involuntary Celibacy Project as a gender-inclusive online space for individuals unable to find romance (Prøitz et al., 2022). Today the term ‘incel’ has increasingly become associated with misogynistic men (Bates, 2021), from lonely people discussing their failings to achieve sexual relationships, to male grievances encased within antifeminism, aggrieved entitlement and subordinate masculinity (Daly & Reed, 2022; Ging, 2019). Originally a small support group, incels have become an online subculture propagating, discussing and establishing principal activities and ideological arguments in anonymous online forums. Misogynistic incel forums exclude women and promote extremist content (DeCook & Kelly, 2022; O’Malley et al., 2022). The antifeminist worldview is part of the so-called manosphere hosting various male-centric subgroups, ranging from Men’s Rights Activists (MRA), who focus on men’s rights and masculinity, Pick Up Artists (PUA), who use deceit to court women, to Men Going Their Own Way (MGTOW), who encourage men to avoid women altogether as a form of self-empowerment (Ging, 2019; Thorburn, 2023).
Few researchers have conducted interviews with incels (Daly & Reed, 2022; Murphy, 2023; Regehr, 2022; Sugiura, 2021), with current research mainly relying on secondary online sources. Others have used survey data to provide insight into incels mental health and well-being (Moskalenko et al., 2022; Sparks et al., 2023). Previous research has quantitatively mapped out incels’ broader forum interactions and their commitment to violence online (Baele et al., 2021, 2022; West, 2023). Additionally, qualitative studies have shown how the incel subculture promotes gendered entitlement (Thorburn et al., 2022), hostile sexism towards women (Halpin et al., 2023), and legitimizing violence towards non-incels (DeCook & Kelly, 2022; Hoffman et al., 2020).
This study further contributes to the growing research on incels using direct interview data with men to nuance their online engagement with the incel subculture. The internet has expanded the possibility of subcultural expressions, pluralism and relativism (Irwin, 1977), as members share online spaces with limited or without offline interactions trans-locally. Thus, I draw on the concept of digital drift to underpin a subcultural framework grasping the intricacy of digital subcultures and online participation (Greener & Hollands, 2006), allowing for a theoretical approach that is ‘looser and less determined in nature’ (Goldsmith & Brewer, 2015, p. 114). I reveal a broad range of men’s involvement in the incel subculture online—varying from all-encompassing, active participation and loose attachment—characterized by subcultural norms, expressions and symbolic opposition to the mainstream society, as well as the various, fluid and changeable ways of engagement with inceldom.
Methodology
This qualitative study is based on 14 semi-structured interviews with nine current incels and four that formerly self-identified as incels (ex-incel). One participant had no sexual experience but identified as voluntary incel (volcel). Geographically, three participants resided in North America, one in South America, six in Europe, two in Australia and two only revealed they lived in Southeast Asia. The participants were all men between 20 and 47 (nine in their 20s, three in their 30s and two in their 40s), with an average age of 29.2 years and a median age of 28.5 years. Despite the participants’ age, ethnicity, geography and social class differences, they shared commonalities and connected through a global internet subculture that allowed them to gather around shared experiences, narratives and grievances.
The interviews were conducted face-to-face via Zoom or Discord, depending on the preferred platform of participants. The semi-structured interviews touched upon participants’ backgrounds, present life and personal experiences as incels/involuntary celibates, allowing participants to express themselves more freely than on the forums, which often have strict norms and rules. The shortest interview was 1 h and 15 min, and the longest 3 h and 30 min, with interviews averaging 2 h. Ten participants had cameras on and openly shared personal information like their name, age and country of origin. However, four participants remained anonymous by having their cameras off, with one using a voice modifier to hide his identity further. Interviewees are assigned aliases to maintain their privacy and anonymity.
Most participants were recruited using snowball sampling online via four private Facebook groups (Baltar & Brunet, 2012). The size of the groups varied from 300 to 1,200 members, which allowed outsiders in opposition to the large puritanical and misogynistic incel forums. The recruitment did not specify that participants needed to be male, but only men responded. Although female incels were allowed in these male-dominated spaces, their presence was less welcomed. A few participants were also recruited through email after they reached out, having heard of the research project through intermediates. This study is limited to a small sample of participants and does not necessarily include the most vocal or influential incels who dominate the largest incel platforms (Baele et al., 2022; Pelzer et al., 2021). Neither does it include men who explicitly supported incel violence or a ‘beta uprising’ (Sugiura, 2021), despite overt misogyny displayed among some participants. Although small, the sample includes men with varied involvement with incel spaces, intentionally not reducing the incel subculture to a core set of members (Williams, 2011).
Interviews were coded using thematic analysis (Braun & Clarke, 2006). The initial themes focused on the participants’ involvement or lack of involvement in the incel subculture, deductively categorizing them into 19 overarching themes regarding their subcultural attachment and life course. The further selection used a subcultural theoretical framework identifying three main categories of involvement within the incel subculture online, which revolve around participants’ time spent in incel spaces, their social incel identity and their support or rejection of extremist or misogynistic incel ideology.
The incel community is performative, with incels being hyper-conscious of how they appear. Interview participants similarly present themselves in particular ways—often to challenge the stigma of being incel (Andersen & Sugiura, 2024). Thus, their stories do not constitute evidence of their experience but are part of their narrative work in the interviews, attempting to manage their portrayals. Drawing on subcultural theory helps navigate such tensions in understanding how and why individuals within subcultures act.
Three Forms of Subcultural Involvement
The incel subculture involves people held virtually together by a collection of narratives and performances constituting an incel identity and actions online, however, members differ in their everyday involvement. My analysis uses a subcultural theoretical framework to explain young men’s online participation and identifies three forms of subcultural involvement, varying from (a) all-encompassing, (b) active participation and (c) loose attachment. The concept of digital drift is used to capture insights from both traditional and post-subcultural theories, recognizing the distinct identity creation of incel subculture combined with changing cultural affiliations and identities in the digital age. Notably, there is considerable intersection among the categories, with individuals classified into multiple categories, highlighting the fluidity of their incel identity and involvement. I conclude by showing how young men drift in and out of the incel subculture as their involvement changes over time.
All-encompassing Participation
All-encompassing participation includes young men who dedicated their time and energy to online incel spaces. They usually had few offline friends and spent little time on conventional or non-incel-related activities. However, some of them found solidarity online with other incels. Most had detailed knowledge about incel terminology, ideology and theory, while holding misogynistic or dogmatic views explaining inceldom. They embraced their incel identity as all-encompassing while claiming their inceldom affected their everyday life.
These men claimed their failure to gain romantic or sexual relationships is the result of genetics, the modern feminist movement and women’s discriminatory sexual selection based on looks, ideologically conceptualized as the blackpill (Baele et al., 2021). Gabriel (23) states, ‘I’m blackpilled 100 percent’. He argues that modern women have set unrealistically and increasingly high standards and demands for men, resulting in a dating market where ‘most men are not enough for women’. Similarly, Jack (30) claims a ‘rationalistic’ and ‘scientific’ framework to support the incel worldview:
So, the blackpill position is that it’s genetic […] It is usually based on data. So, you have a hierarchy. There is a racial hierarchy. And on top is the whites … this is for males only. And after that, you got blacks. And right on the bottom you got like … the South Asians and the Southeast Asians and there’s a debate going on who’s right at the bottom.
He defines the subcultural authenticity of inceldom as structurally impeded by hierarchal roles based on race, class, genetics and gender. Incels share experiences of relative deprivation (Kimmel, 2017) based upon unachievable standards of hegemonic masculinity, which blocks romantic opportunities they feel should be accessible, resulting in feelings of aggrieved entitlement (Daly & Reed, 2022). The core concerns of the incel subculture largely align with the prevailing cultural narratives of masculinity, endorsing traditional masculine ideals such as physical strength, independence and sexual prowess (Connell, 1995). The incel subculture has formed as a collective act of defiance in response to perceived impossibly high standards, unified by their mutual dissatisfaction with their societal standing—a dynamic providing ‘the common ground for the coalition or joint adventure called the delinquent gang’ (Cohen, 1955, p. 153). While unsuccessful and counterproductive, the subculture can be understood as an attempt to resist the structural conditions of the neoliberal mainstream dating culture and dating market (Bratich & Banet-Weiser, 2019; Hall & Jefferson, 1976).
Feelings of loneliness and social isolation are central for those actively spending considerable time in online incel spaces. Gabriel spends all his time on forums or Discord servers with other incels: ‘Right now I’m spending almost 100 percent of my time there, unfortunately’, recognizing the potential negative impact of the incel subculture’s misogynistic views, dogmatic explanations for inceldom and promotion of suicidal ideation (Daly & Laskovtsov, 2021). However, participation in the incel subculture allowed some to find friendships or a sense of belonging online. Kumari (23) confesses his lack of friends: ‘I literally have [hesitates] no in-real-life friends or even contacts, to be honest. I prefer to be alone. So, yeah. So, if I have any friends, most of them are online.’ Similarly, Ryan (30) found people he trusts within the incel community, receiving birthday greetings and genuine concern from online acquaintances: ‘They wish me the very best, and all that … you know, they care for me as a friend’. Thus, distinct from the denigration and encouragement of suicide among fellow incels that is present in some forums (Daly & Laskovtsov, 2021), the incel subculture can provide lonely men belonging and solidarity to counter anomie, ‘where symbols, rituals, and meaning promote social cohesion’ (Blackman, 2014, p. 498).
Committed incels supported rigid and patriarchal gender roles while espousing misogyny, with participants like Kumari expressing explicit resentment and disdain: ‘The thing is I hate women so I will avoid them.’ Nevertheless, he narratively attempted to distance himself from other extremist and violent incels who ‘support mass genocide of women’:
I: And where do you talk to these guys? For the forum I have seen in the Facebook group I’m part of, that’s not really allowed. K: No, no, no…. Yes, of course, because what I am talking about is all this stuff you won’t see in Facebook. Yeah, but if you use Discord and join these groups, you will see them…. I: So, what do they talk about in these Discord servers? K: I mean, it can range from all kinds of stuff from improving yourself, to what would happen if you rape a woman, to what would happen if you create a world where female infanticide is, like, a good thing. It can range from anything good to really … messy. I: What’s the messiest thing they talk about? K: I mean…. They call for [hesitates] … they call for female rape, I guess.
Incels can move between more clandestine online spaces where they can openly espouse misogyny, creating echo chambers with more extreme views while presenting themselves as less problematic in public spaces. Participants encompassed in incel spaces were familiar with reading provocative posts about misogyny, rape, killings and mass shootings. However, they often rationalized or neutralized these topics as other frustrated individuals venting, lifting off steam, joking or trolling. New opportunities for online connection thus enable the creation of incel subcultures inverting dominant cultural values and norms regarding sex, consent and violence, embracing a form of ‘negative polarity’ in symbolic acts of defiance (Cohen, 1955, p. 28). Nonetheless, despite viewing their interactions as in-group jokes, they contribute to a broader culture of misogyny by normalizing violence against women (Sugiura, 2021).
Men engaged in all-encompassing participation with the incel subculture perceive sexual or romantic access as stifled due to status or unachievable societal standards of class, gender and race, aligning with traditional subcultural perspectives (Gelder, 2005). They are well-versed in incel terminology and ideology, spend considerable time in incel online spaces and endorse misogyny. Through their subcultural identity, they symbolically resist their supposed marginalization in the sexual market by creating alternative ways of expressing and positioning themselves in opposition to the mainstream society they claim has rejected them.
Active Participation
The involvement of young men varied significantly regarding the category of active participation in the incel community. Their engagement could overlap and fluctuate over time, with the same individuals moving between the all-encompassing and active participation categories, indicating fluidity in identity and involvement. Some posted on incel forums regularly or spent time in chat groups, while others spent more time watching incel content than interacting with others. Their knowledge about the incel worldview or ideology also varied from curiously visiting the incel community to possessing more subcultural knowledge. The subcultural involvement for some was periodic and shifting. However, they would return out of community, excitement, fascination or in-group humour. Their categorization of incel identities and participation, therefore, could change over time.
Jack fears monitoring and infiltration of the incel community by authorities. However, he continuous to participate in incel spaces as he enjoys the ‘unfiltered humour’ while it fascinates and excites him to be part of a deviant in-group:
You know there is so much heat. On the [group]… you want to visit the sites more rather than less. Cause if just turned out like, you know, we were open and were allowed to reveal our identity then… Then it probably wouldn’t have that much appeal to me. It’s sort of this, you know, niche, edgy, unique thing. That only I know about.
Incels are under increased scrutiny from mainstream society, warning against extremist incels (Bates, 2021), while ‘incel hunters’ report and ridicule them online (Dynel, 2020). Continued engagement with the incel subculture can therefore seem irrational. However, it makes sense when explained as people defiantly playing with the dominant culture’s classification of themselves while constructing subcultural milieus under discourses of authority, which ‘forms at the interface between surveillance and the evasion of surveillance’ (Hebdige, 1983, p. 297). For some, the anonymity afforded by online platforms allows for engaging in deviant subcultures as an act of transgression with attractive and seductive qualities (Katz, 1988). The exclusiveness also makes people ‘privy to insider knowledge’ and specific subcultural capital that can oppose the entity of mainstream masses (Thornton, 2013, p. 6). Incel ideology claims to hold information about dating and sex that the mainstream readily ignores while promoting ‘feminist lies’ (Sugiura, 2021). Thus, the subcultural incel capital provides participants with excitement and knowledge, contradicting and opposing the mainstream.
Gabriel posts videos of himself promoting incel ideologies, such as the Just Be White theory, positing that women primarily choose white men as their sexual or romantic partners. However, Gabriel confesses to not believing the theory but admits to ‘trolling’ unsuspected viewers:
I: I saw some of your videos on YouTube. How often do you post stuff like that? G: It’s relatively new, it’s a good way to pass time. I try to get as many views as possible and mix reality with a bit of … little bit of lies and trolling, I think it’s funny. I: What’s the trolling and what’s the lies in there? G: I avoid lying about my life because I feel bad about it, but I lie about my worldview and such because I think it’s funny…. I’m not sure […] I’m exaggerating stuff, I don’t know.
Gabriel positions himself as subculturally knowledgeable, or ‘in-the-in’, as he demonstrates his subcultural capital, separating himself from outsiders who cannot get the joke (Thornton, 2013). He enjoys provoking others while framing it as a hobby or leisure activity, revelling in the absurdity that other people believe he is being truthful when he is being disingenuous, as a form of trolling masculinity (Díaz-Fernández & García-Mingo, 2022). As he explains it: ‘Sometimes the funny is just funny’. This tendency mirrors members in deviant subcultures who actively provoke and find ‘enjoyment in the discomfiture of others’ (Cohen, 1955, p. 27). They acknowledge their distinctiveness and, as articulated by Gelder (2005), they bemoan it, relish it and exploit it. Simultaneously, this behaviour illustrates the post-subcultural stance wherein young individuals may experiment and play with subcultural identities (Bennett & Kahn-Harris, 2004).
The subcultural incel involvement of active participants is also shifting, partial and diverse. Contrary to the blackpill, the red pill ideology is less fatalistic while still uniting manosphere groups against ‘feminist brainwashing and misandry’ (Ging, 2019, p. 640). Kumari sees himself as ‘a mix between the blackpill and the redpill’. He admits to having no sexual experiences, but he wishes to have sex and live as a single bachelor without ‘needing any women’ or the ‘baggage of a relationship’. Inspired by the group MGTOW, his incel identity is being contested and, therefore, under negotiation: ‘I’m in a dilemma between being an incel and an MGTOW’. Ryan explored other online environments while moderating the incel group:
There’s different freedom of speech groups. A lot of those, and some political stuff that I get into… I join other groups like the Men Going Their Own Way…. I guess, just to gain perspective on, you know, how people cope as a man going their own way and … all these sorts of things.
Ryan explores various ‘modes of personal expression’ (Bennett, 1999, p. 607) and does not necessarily commit too firmly to the incel subculture, even with a somewhat central role in the incel community. Jacob (29) actively posts misogynistic content he finds funny. Nevertheless, he describes himself as ‘a fringe observer of the community’ with less subcultural knowledge about incel-specific terminology or theories, illustrating how being an incel is not a prerequisite for being misogynistic. Thus, men active in the incel subculture can engage in reflexive identity construction and demonstrate a partial sense of belonging by being less involved or ideologically dogmatic (Robards & Bennett, 2011). Their online behaviour illustrates the transient nature of collective identities in modern society as they move between sites of expression, allowing them to ‘reconstruct themselves accordingly’ (Bennett, 1999, p. 606). Incels portray themselves as losers within a saturated and competitive neoliberal ‘sexual market’ (Bratich & Banet-Weiser, 2019). At the same time, blurred boundaries of contemporary subcultures allow for a level of personalization and fluidity in identity formation (Muggleton, 2002). In an online context, young men thus create and negotiate their incel identity through a bricolage of narratives, shared experiences and cultural references (Andersen, 2023).
Men actively participating in the incel subculture reflect a distinct yet complex and interwoven engagement with online spaces, aligning between traditional (Cohen, 1955) and post-subcultural (Bennett & Kahn-Harris, 2004) theories. They bond over unique styles and values, seeking thrills, humour, provocation or transgression, which earns them subcultural capital. However, their incel identification is not fixed but dynamic, as they negotiate, experiment and sometimes play with their incel identity. Their involvement can be sporadic and adaptable, with participants moving between involvement categories, reflecting their ongoing online exploration of identity and masculinity.
Loose Attachment
Participation in incel communities also includes young men whose involvement is loosely attached and less ideologically invested. Their roles and boundaries connected to the incel subculture were ambiguous and shifting, with some being unsure of their incel identity. In countering the rigid lines within the incel subculture, some were highly critical of what they saw as rampant misogyny and strict categories towards non-incels. However, they identify as ‘involuntary celibate’ and still connect with the incel community through shared stories of masculine inadequacy and loneliness. Thus, they could spend much of their time in incel spaces observing or paying attention as sporadic visitors.
Dine (28) has recently joined the incel community. He claims not to be invested in incel ideology and spends limited time in incel space. However, his lack of sexual experience by missing out on the ‘same rite of passage’ as his peers, still preoccupy his thoughts periodically, reflecting social expectations on men to partake in sexual activities (Connell, 1995). Even though direct interaction is limited, the internet can provide a space for ‘lurkers’ and ‘listeners’ to ‘generate powerful bonds of social intimacy and connectedness’ (Crawford, 2011, p. 66). Similarly, Dine connects with the struggles shared within the incel community despite the prevalence of hateful discourse online. Yet, he does not feel he has anything to contribute to the discussions online, so he mainly observes:
I just kind of felt … there was nothing to really talk about. I mean … it’s [the incel forum] a place that people would air out their feelings and stuff like that, but it just didn’t really feel … like I could contribute to anything to the discussion, because to whatever I’m feeling, it just seems like there’s scores of other people feeling the same thing. So, it’s just kind of redundant if I mention my situation.
Hakim (20) explains, ‘I feel kind of fluid about my identity regarding inceldom and whatever’. Although he spends time in specific incel spaces online, he distances himself by pointing out his unfamiliarity with incel literature: ‘I mean, I guess I never truly bought into it, you know.’ This online behaviour reflects ‘the unstable and shifting cultural affiliations’ characterizing contemporary societies (Bennett, 1999, p. 605), with subcultural members resisting fixed group identities and ‘connotations of collective conformity’ (Muggleton, 2002, p. 78). Similarly, Alexander (22) describes his efforts into being in a relationship as ‘above and beyond what most people have’ without positive results and therefore feels he belongs to the incel community. However, he is critical of the overall incel ideology and does not recognize himself in the one-sided media coverage of incels:
The idea that all incels are in some way identical in their beliefs and their opinions and the way that they interact with the world is… well, it’s just pretty bothersome to me, right? Because I consider myself to be, at least in part, a member of that community, more of a looser association or anything.
He still agrees with certain aspects of the incel community as they are ‘genuinely and honestly speaking about how important looks are’. However, the one-sided and contradictory logic of other incels frustrated him due to only focusing on male discrimination based on looks while ignoring similar grievances affecting women or female incels (femcel). This reflexive negotiation of identity and classification can be described as ‘liminal subcultures’, in which ‘groups have begun to break out of the very boundaries through which they are defined’ (Muggleton, 2002, p. 75).
Men with looser attachments to the incel subculture reflect ambiguous membership and fluid boundaries connected to online participation, aligning within the post-subcultural understanding of subcultural theory (Bennett, 1999). Their looser sensibilities challenged fixed subcultural boundaries of being incel or involuntary celibate, freely entering and exiting incel spaces, and selectively deciding to what degree they want to participate, adopt or discard group identities.
Drift: Changing Participation over Time
The interviews revealed that young men’s engagement within digital contexts changed over time, either by intensifying, reducing, distancing or completely disconnecting from the incel subculture. Goldsmith and Brewer’s (2015) notion of digital drift posits that online forums and platforms facilitate varying levels of engagement and disengagement. In this context, those of inceldom include traditional subcultural distinctiveness of incel identity while including the post-subculture understandings of fluid and fragmented identities changeable over time and in different contexts. I employ the concept of digital drift to illustrate the potential for individuals to drift in and, possibly, out of the incel subculture.
The incel subculture has gained traction on social media platforms by mainstreaming incel ideology and discourse (Solea & Sugiura, 2023). Dine first saw the term on a dating site:
I think I first came across it on a dating site, and … there was one profile where she put: Don’t message me like … there were all these other types of people that she wouldn’t meet, but … I was curious that she said incel. […] I mean, it seemed kind of ridiculous, but it still piqued my curiosity. Then I started going to like YouTube videos […] that explore different studies of how beauty is portrayed in modern society. And how much aesthetic beauty of men is still more dominant than other traits. It’s even like seen above personality traits when determining who to mate and stuff […] Yeah, it was kind of … really kind of an eye opener for me, I guess.
Dine does not actively follow incel channels on YouTube but occasionally watches recommended incel content. The combined effects of the accessibility and algorithmic amplification of incel content (Papadamou et al., 2020) sets the scene for curious young men to drift into the incel subculture, enabling inactive ‘lurkers’ to drift through video content and explore forums without active engagement. This dynamic can be problematic given the criminogenic potential of the internet, where various political actors—including MRAs, Far-Right groups and conspiracy theorists—strategically exploit vulnerabilities in some men by utilizing recommender algorithms, intensifying the distribution of misogynistic and antifeminist content (Ribeiro et al., 2021). These vulnerabilities may include social isolation, mental health issues or conditions on the autism spectrum, which are reportedly prevalent among incels (Moskalenko et al., 2022).
Brian (23) was deeply entrenched in the incel subculture and recalls his introduction accidentally through ‘a sort of a pipeline’. He recounts his journey: ‘I start off like a new atheist, right? Then I got into these new atheists that are also antifeminists. And then, I got into all the reasons why you shouldn’t get married and blablabla … and so it turned into a dislike of women to some extent.’ However, entering a long-time relationship played a vital role in his deradicalization and disengagement with the incel community. At the same time, there are strict internal boundaries within the incel subculture (Nagle, 2017). While the supposed goal for incels is to gain a romantic partner and sex, Brian ironically experienced a loss of subcultural capital and trust for ‘ascending’ by other incels. Accused of being a ‘normie’, he was banned from specific incel Discord servers: ‘They really didn’t like it. No “Oh, well done” or anything […] There were no congratulations’. Today, he considers himself an ex-incel but acknowledges the challenge of entirely letting go of the incel mindset:
I mean I was still thinking in the same sort of mindset. After a while, after I’d first had sex…. And it takes a while to sort of get out of that because you have to understand it’s not just … not being able to have sex. It’s a whole sort of mindset, a worldview, there’s a whole law to it sort to speak […] It’s an all-encompassing sort of worldview, and you start to view everything through that lens. So it takes a while to break out of that.
Men engage with the incel subculture with varied degrees of intention and engagement online. Some merely explore its ideas, while others adopt its worldview. Digital spaces can intensify group boundaries and open new ways of indoctrination, blurring the line between online and offline life (Goldsmith & Brewer, 2015; Hodkinson, 2002). Nevertheless, drawing on Matza’s drift theory, individuals may only partially conform to the norms and values of a deviant subculture. Therefore, in the digital context, men might ‘drift’ into the subcultural behaviours and ideologies associated with inceldom due to diverse factors, such as opportunity, situational context or boundary policing, potentially leading to disengagement.
Concluding Discussion
While incels’ collective grievances about involuntary celibacy may imply uniformity within a distinct subculture online, direct interaction with young men reveals varied degrees of subcultural involvement, ranging from all-encompassing, active to loose attachment. This study explores young men’s involvement in the online incel community using interview data. The incel subculture is reaching a global audience, attracting young men by linking personal traits, values and experiences to broader, cultural and political systems. Unified by their marginalized role in the sexual market—whether perceived, experienced or self-imposed, they develop a political subjectivity, that can result in aggrieved entitlement and, potentially, justify violence based on sexism, misogyny and male supremacy (O’Donnell & Shor, 2022; Vito et al., 2018).
The digital landscape blurs the liminality between nonviolent, misogynistic and violent incels, allowing anonymous participation and drift within the incel subculture. Thus, it is essential not to reduce the incel subculture to its so-called core, which is, as Williams (2011, p. 39) points out, ‘to lose sight of the fact that subcultures are in constant flux, shifting across time and space’. Drawing on a subcultural framework, I have demonstrated that both traditional and postmodern approaches can illuminate men’s involvement in the incel subculture online, using the concept of digital drift to capture some of this complexity.
Men’s everyday involvement with the incel subculture can vary significantly. Like other online youth cultures, they reflexively ‘weave narratives of subcultural belonging in and out of their personal accounts of identity and belonging’ (Bennett, 2014, p. 98). Some fully embrace the incel identity and ideology, while others seek belonging, friendship and community without strong ideological motivation. Some participate anonymously, transgressing mainstream norms with misogyny and trolling. Others are periodically active, engaging in reflexive identity construction without deep ideological commitment. Those with looser attachments, challenge fixed subcultural boundaries of being incel or involuntary celibate but connect through shared stories of loneliness and masculine inadequacy, albeit with limited engagement with other incels.
Online interactions facilitate a spectrum of subcultural involvement, from active engagement to passive observation, contributing to digital drift (Goldsmith & Brewer, 2015). Traditional subcultural perspectives distinguish parts of the incel subculture by their specific styles, values and interests, setting them apart from mainstream culture. Post-subcultural perspectives describe the incel subculture in today’s digital age as fluid, ambiguous and interconnected, with individuals less rigidly bound to it. Digital drift highlights the complexity and mutability of online behaviour, with individuals frequently shifting between adherence to and deviation from digital and social norms. Thus, despite the deterministic nature of incel ideology, the digital environment enables a dynamic spectrum of engagement. Some men become involved with the incel subculture accidentally, fostering a political identity as victims due to perceived social and cultural constraints on their sexual access (O’Donnell & Shor, 2022). Others oscillate among varying degrees of affiliation, navigating their identity within the incel framework and the broader sexual marketplace. This negotiation may lead some to critically engage with opposing views, gradually distancing themselves from incel ideology or severing ties with the online incel community altogether.
Within the incel subculture, counter-narratives disputing incel (blackpill) ideologies tend to be less prominent or visible. However, spaces offering alternative viewpoints countering prevailing incel ideology are emerging (Botto & Gottzén, 2023; Thorburn, 2023). Digital drift, drawing from traditional and post-subcultural frameworks, illustrates how participation in the incel subculture can symbolically resist mainstream society while members engage in various forms.
This study nuances men’s involvement and identity negotiation as incel or involuntary celibate, highlighting the need for critical direct engagement with young men in different aspects of the subculture. By including and recognizing multiple voices, we can gain insight into how young men engage with the incel subculture, potentially indicating paths out of it.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The author would like to thank Sveinung Sandberg, Lisa Sugiura, Lucas Gottzén and the anonymous reviewers for their guidance and helpful comments on earlier versions of this article.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
Ethical Approval Statement
Full ethical approval was obtained from the Norwegian Agency for Shared Services in Education and Research (SIKT) concerning sensitivity and processing and storing personal data, including informed consent, confidentiality and anonymity.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
