Has Feminism Gone Too Far? The Gender Divide and the Rise of Political Polarisation

Illustration by Will Allen/Europinion

Eight days before International Women’s Day—a time to reflect on the progress still needed for gender equality—I came across an article in El País entitled "More and More Single Women (and Happier): 'Many Men Don’t Know How to Measure Up.'" The piece cited a demographic study arguing: “Men are looking for women who do not exist anymore, while women look for men who do not exist yet.” This sentiment struck a chord, especially as it coincided with the lead-up to the 2025 German elections, where a stark gender divide in political preferences became evident. Could these two trends be connected?

In Germany, 25% of young men under 25 voted for the far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), compared to only 14% of young women. This divergence is not unique to Germany. In Spain, over 64% of Vox supporters are men, while only 35% are women. In Finland’s 2019 parliamentary elections, the nationalist Finns Party secured 22.9% of the male vote but only 10.9% of the female vote. Similarly, in South Korea’s 2022 presidential election, 58.7% of young men under 30 backed conservative Yoon Suk-yeol of the People Power Party.

The trend of men leaning conservative and women leaning liberal is more than just a political curiosity—it reflects a deeper crisis in how young people perceive gender, power, and their roles in modern society. A survey by Spain’s National Centre for Sociological Research found that 44% of men—and 52% of men aged 16-24—believe feminism has gone too far. Similarly, an Ipsos survey across 31 countries revealed that 60% of Gen Z men feel efforts to promote women's equality have led to discrimination against men.

As women gain more visibility and opportunities in various spheres of society, some men perceive these advances as coming at their expense. Unlike material wealth, status is relational—it exists only in comparison to others. Traditional masculine identity has historically been tied to economic and social dominance, and the erosion of these roles has left many men feeling adrift. This perceived loss of relative status makes them more receptive to political movements that promise to restore a bygone era of masculinity and social order. This dynamic explains why men are particularly susceptible to far-right narratives, which often frame feminism and social progress as threats to traditional values. In the United States, for example, the "gymbro" phenomenon—a fitness-focused, hyper-masculine subculture—has increasingly aligned with far-right rhetoric, celebrating ideals of strength, dominance, and traditional masculinity, often in the context of Trump-era politics.

Humans are inherently tribal. In tribal societies, lacking status within the group often meant being ostracised—a virtual death sentence. This primal fear of status loss still lingers today. The data supports this: in OECD countries, male suicide rates are between two and eight times higher than female rates, reflecting a deep-seated crisis in male well-being. In South Korea, for instance, the suicide rate among men is 32.53 per 100,000, compared to 13.54 per 100,000 for women. Additionally, men face increasing difficulty in finding partners due to demographic imbalances and shifting relationship dynamics. On dating apps like Bumble, 76% of users worldwide are male, yet they struggle with engagement. Men average only one match for every 40 likes, with over 50% receiving less than one match per day, compared to women, who average five matches per day. This means the sense of rejection young men feel is magnified many times over.

This growing divide reflects Seymour Martin Lipset's work in Political Man (1960), where he examined the role of status anxiety—the fear of social decline or loss of status—in shaping political preferences. Lipset argued that status anxiety contributes to the rise of authoritarianism, extremism, and political movements that mobilise discontented groups. Affluent and educated men, secure in their social status, are less likely to view women's rights as a threat. In contrast, working-class men are more prone to zero-sum thinking, where advances in gender equality are perceived as personal or collective losses. And it makes sense: if women do not need them, and if the labour market does not need them, then what is left? Young men, particularly those from working-class backgrounds, are drawn to reactionary politics that frame feminism and immigration as problems for them, as they feel left behind. They are struggling to find their place in a world where traditional male status markers are eroding.

Of course, gender rights matter, and much of the left’s agenda—from Kamala Harris in the United States to Podemos in Spain—has focused on feminism. However, the left must also address the broader issue of economic stagnation and provide a sense of upward mobility for all. The left has largely failed to engage young men effectively, sometimes making them feel inadequate or ignored. By not addressing their concerns, it has left a vacuum that the far right has filled with narratives of male victimisation and opposition to feminism. It is a progressive imperative to address the structural forces driving status anxiety and provide young men with a sense of purpose and belonging. Gender policies have not gone too far—material conditions for women still lag in many areas—but they have left some men behind, contributing to rising political polarisation and strengthening far-right electoral bases.