Most people have had a bad roommate experience. When I started college three years ago, I was told that the best you can hope for is that your not-so-stellar roommate teaches you a lesson. I thought my lesson was going to be on how to communicate better. Surprisingly, the biggest lesson turned out to be about how the age of the algorithm was shifting my generation’s attitude on gender and disagreement.
Ahead of my sophomore year, I met my future roommate while searching for housing. At first, he checked all the right boxes: He was tidy, appeared respectful, seemed driven, and communicated well. Within a month of moving in together, I began hearing him make demeaning comments about women and people from different racial, religious, and political backgrounds. He often claimed that women were less than men, especially when they disagreed with him, even remarking that his own girlfriend was wrong and that he was the only one who could convince her to see it his way. In his mind, disagreement was often evidence that the other person, particularly a woman, was inferior or simply wrong.
Over time, I also noticed how closely these attitudes resembled the videos, podcasts, and posts filling his social media feeds. The content did not appear to challenge his assumptions. It repeatedly validated and intensified them, making increasingly extreme viewpoints seem ordinary and justified. This was not the first time I had encountered other men expressing misogynistic or prejudiced opinions amplified through the internet. However, it was the first time I had lived with someone who did so. It led me to reflect on my own online experience and how the algorithms shaping my social media feeds might also be influencing the way I understand the world in ways I did not even realize.
Around that time, I was talking with a close female friend who shares remarkably similar interests, humor, and even career goals in fundraising. We constantly send each other TikToks because our feeds are nearly identical. However, I was also getting videos about hair loss, despite having no concern about my hairline, along with content from male influencers offering advice on how to be a “more masculine man” and the “correct way” to behave around women.
This content on the internet is referred to as “manosphere content.” A 2022 Australian study built ten experimental YouTube accounts with profiles of boys and young men, plus blank controls, and tracked what got recommended to them. It found that misogynist manosphere content was pushed to users regardless of whether those accounts actively searched for it.
When I asked my friend if she had seen influencers from that side of the internet, mentioning names like “Clavicular,” she had never even heard of them, highlighting how different algorithms can shape online experiences.
One of the most concerning effects of recommended algorithms is that they do more than expose users to misogynistic content. They normalize it. Ideas that once existed on the fringes of the internet are repeated until they begin to feel ordinary. When users are constantly shown creators who portray women as manipulative, emotional, or responsible for men’s struggles, these messages gradually become accepted as truth instead of being recognized as harmful stereotypes.
Not all content about masculinity or men’s wellbeing is harmful. Young men need places to talk honestly about loneliness, identity, relationships, emotional health, and purpose. But there is a difference between content that helps men navigate those challenges and content that connects legitimate struggles to resentment.
Blaming women for men’s frustrations is not a new phenomenon, but algorithmic amplification has changed the speed and scale at which these ideas spread. Isolation plays a big part. From firsthand experience, many of my peers spend the majority of their interactions with others through their screens, and these interactions are led by algorithms. A Dublin City University study found that accounts built around loneliness and self-improvement themes were shown roughly four times as many misogynistic videos as baseline content, increasingly focused on blaming women. Platforms reward content that generates strong emotional reactions, allowing divisive messages to reach millions of users and reinforcing existing beliefs into an echo chamber. It influences how people speak, form relationships, and treat each other in real life.
As I was thinking through this piece, I spoke separately with my brother and my mom. Talking with my brother made me realize that many of our experiences were remarkably similar. We both grew up with close friendships across genders and never viewed those relationships as unusual. From an early age, my parents taught us that boys and girls should simply be treated as people. When I spoke with my mom, the conversation reminded me that she bought my brother and me dolls when we were young. She explained that society expects men to become loving, involved fathers, yet often tells boys they should not play with dolls or pretend to care for babies. She wanted us to see caregiving as something that belonged to everyone, not just women.
At the time, these conversations seemed ordinary, but they taught me to step outside my own perspective and recognize experiences different from my own. That habit has stayed with me into adulthood. My dad was also a great example; growing up, he showed me the importance of showing emotions and respect. He normalized identifying and sharing how you feel while also highlighting the importance of lifting up the woman around you. He treated my mom with kindness, respect, and genuine partnership.
As I reflect on my experience, I realized how much is working against people coming across divides and, honestly, realities. Looking back, I see these lessons made my internship at Convergence Center for Policy Resolution feel like a natural fit. The organization’s mission of bringing together people with opposing viewpoints to find common ground reflects many of the values my parents showed me and the lessons I learned from those around me.
This piece is a message to parents, educators, mentors, and my peers navigating the modern world. I urge my generation to reflect on the content we consume, the ideas we allow into our lives, and how those ideas can shape the way we see ourselves, one another, and the world around us.
Try comparing your feed with someone you trust, particularly someone of another gender, generation, political perspective, or background. You may discover that even people with whom you have much in common are being shown remarkably different worlds. Recognizing that difference will not resolve every disagreement, but it can serve as a first step to identifying what divides us and working to bridge our differences IRL.
