Why Are We So Cruel To Men About Features They Can't Change?

I rolled my eyes reading it. Women already talk about men’s bodies with casual cruelty all the time. There are literal height filters on dating apps that automatically exclude the vast majority of men. The double standard is frustrating: when a man comments on a woman’s weight, something often changeable through lifestyle choices, it’s labeled misogyny. When a woman dismisses a man for his height, something entirely genetic, it’s called “just a preference” or, worse, “funny.”

Men face intense pressures around their appearance nearly as much as women do. But they also carry additional burdens: the expectation to be economically successful, physically protective, and emotionally stoic… while still looking like a Marvel superhero. Many of the traits men are mocked for, like height, facial bone structure, penis size, and hair loss patterns, are things they can’t really change. Society laughs at these immutable features, then wonders why so many young men feel hopeless, disengage, or turn to extreme measures to cope.

Social media has intensified these pressures. Algorithms serve up perfection and highlight “Chads” while ordinary men scroll through rejection after rejection. The result is a quiet crisis. While eating disorders have long been framed as a women’s issue, men are increasingly affected. Studies show that males now account for roughly one in three diagnosed eating disorder cases, with rates among men rising faster than among women in recent years. Men are also less likely to seek help due to stigma and are at significantly higher risk of dying from these disorders when they do develop them, partly because symptoms look different (more focus on muscularity than thinness) and resources remain primarily geared toward women.

Studies show that males now account for roughly one in three diagnosed eating disorder cases.

This Men’s Health Month, it’s time to stop treating men’s body image struggles as a punchline.

One of the most visible responses to these pressures is the rise of “Lookmaxxing.” Far from a harmless TikTok trend or something to mock as “incel nonsense,” Lookmaxxing represents young men, often teenagers and men in their early twenties, attempting to take control of their appearance in a world that judges them harshly on traits they didn’t choose.

The term originated in the 2010s on online platforms associated with the “manosphere” and “incel” communities, where discussions centered on the idea that physical attractiveness heavily influences life outcomes, especially in dating. It gained mainstream traction on TikTok in the 2020s through male creators sharing “glow-up” advice. The goal: maximize one’s physical attractiveness, often framed as increasing “sexual market value” or “ascending” to a better social and romantic position.

Lookmaxxing breaks into two categories. Softmaxxing involves non-invasive, everyday improvements: skincare routines, gym training for muscle and posture, better grooming, haircare, chewing exercises, and focusing on sleep and nutrition. Many of these practices are really basic self-care that anyone, man or woman, would benefit from. A man hitting the gym, taking care of his skin, and standing taller isn’t inherently problematic; it can actually be a healthy response to feeling invisible or undesirable.

Hardmaxxing crosses into risky territory. This can include steroids, cosmetic surgeries (jaw implants, rhinoplasty, fillers), hair transplants, and even dangerous practices like “bone smashing” (repeatedly hitting the face in hopes of reshaping bones!). Some communities promote extreme calorie restriction (“starvemaxxing”) or other behaviors that move into disordered eating.

The trend has exploded because the environment young men are in rewards certain looks while punishing others, just like young women experience. Dating apps prove this: surveys and user data show many women set height filters at 6 feet or above, a height met by only about 14% of men in the United States. Only around 15% of women express a willingness to date men 5'8" or shorter in some research. Facial appearance is a big thing, too. Overall symmetry becomes hyper-fixated upon because these traits heavily influence initial attraction in photo-based swiping.

It’s easy to scroll past Lookmaxxing content and media coverage and laugh at the posts and the intensity. But that laughter often masks a lack of compassion for what drives it. Imagine being a 5'6" or 5'7" man in a culture where height is treated as a sign of masculinity and desirability. Jokes about “short kings” sometimes come out with affection, but more often they’re backhanded or dismissive. Imagine having softer facial features that no amount of gym time fully corrects. Imagine early hair loss in your twenties, a genetic lottery ticket that changes how the world and potential partners perceive you. Or the shame around penis size, where average measurements are mocked in media and conversation as if they define a man’s worth.

These are tied to real-world negative outcomes, not just trivial insecurities that men can simply “get over.” Fewer matches on apps, social exclusion, and a constant drip of messaging that your body is inadequate in ways you can’t “fix.” When society responds to these struggles with mockery and cruelty, many men internalize that their pain is invalid or pathetic. Lookmaxxing is a desperate bid for agency in a system that offers little empathy for genetic disadvantages men face.

Body positivity campaigns rarely extend the same grace to short men, balding men, or men who don’t fit the muscular ideal.

The criticism of Lookmaxxing itself reveals another double standard. Women are encouraged to pursue beauty enhancements, cosmetic procedures, weight loss, or body positivity movements with support and celebration. “You be you, girl!” Men attempting similar self-improvement are often labeled vain, insecure, or part of a “toxic” subculture. There’s little mainstream space for men to express body dissatisfaction without it being turned into a meme. Body positivity campaigns rarely extend the same grace to short men, balding men, or men who don’t fit the muscular ideal.

Extreme interventions have real medical risks: steroid use can damage the heart and hormones, unnecessary surgeries have complications, and obsessive focus on appearance can fuel men’s anxiety and depression. The healthiest version of these efforts stays in the softmaxxing lane: building strength, caring for skin and hair, and improving posture and style. These build genuine confidence rather than chasing an unattainable genetic ideal. But will most young men end there, or go further to the extremes?

The root impulse of all of this deserves more understanding and compassion, especially from women. Men are growing up in a hyper-visual, hyper-competitive dating and social landscape amplified by social media. They see idealized male bodies everywhere (superheroes in movies, influencers, porn) and compare themselves constantly. When they fall short on traits determined largely by genetics and early development, the message they receive is often shame or silence rather than compassion.

Men aren’t immune to feeling inadequate, invisible, or hopeless about their bodies.

Can we do better? Absolutely. We can acknowledge that men experience body shaming too, and that much of it targets unchangeable features. We can recognize that height filters and casual jokes about “small d**k energy” contribute to real distress. We can support healthy self-improvement without mocking men’s desire to feel attractive and worthy. We can fund and destigmatize mental health resources tailored to men, including those struggling with body image and eating disorders.

We don’t have to say women shouldn’t have preferences. That’s not what I’m suggesting. But we should refuse to laugh at pain that stems from biology rather than choice. We should be extending the same empathy we rightly demand when women face appearance pressures. Men aren’t immune to feeling inadequate, invisible, or hopeless about their bodies. I don’t want to see more and more young men trying to navigate this alone. It’s not only unfair, but dangerous and puts men of all ages’ lives at risk.

This Men’s Health Month, let’s put an end to the stigma, the cruelty, and the selective compassion. Men’s mental and physical health depends on it. So does the health of our relationships and society. When we stop treating men’s body struggles as a laughing matter, everyone wins.