The climate backlash is not only about economics. It is also about identity and a very old idea of masculinity built on domination.
A few weeks ago, I watched Louis Theroux’s Netflix documentary ‘’Inside the Manosphere”. I knew these spaces existed. I knew the language, the influencers, the online rituals of resentment. Still, I came away bleak, sad, angry and wondering how we got here.
The manosphere is often described as a loose, informal online communities, blogs and social media spaces that promote aggressive, narrow, and deeply misogynistic ideas about what it means to be a man. They often argue that feminism and gender equality have damaged men’s rights and promote ideas that to be a ‘’real man’’ is to be emotionally restrained, financially successful, physically attractive, and hold power, especially over women.
The consequences are far-reaching: These ideas feed loneliness and poor mental health among men themselves. They also make life more dangerous and hostile for women, queer people and other marginalised groups. But these ideas do not stay confined to online subculture. It is one window into a much wider political problem.
Because the same values that animate these spaces, domination, control, aggression, and contempt for care, also shape how some societies think about energy, climate and nature.
From the manosphere to the climate backlash
Hypermasculinity is the exaggeration of traditional ideas of manhood: physical strength, power, emotional suppression, aggression, and opposition to anything coded as feminine. The manosphere has become one of the places where these ideas are amplified and normalised. But they also appear in less obvious places, including in the politics of fossil fuels, the environment and climate policy.
This is where the concept of petromasculinity is useful. First introduced by political scientist Cara Daggett in 2018. Petromasculinity describes “the relationship between gender domination, fossil fuel exploitation, and political power.” It helps explain why fossil fuels are not treated only as economic resources. They are also cultural symbols of control, strength, and industrial dominance. It further describes how authoritarian movements in the Western world were increasingly driven by climate denial and misogyny, appealing particularly to men who feel left behind.
Under this logic, environmental protection can be framed as more than a policy shift. It becomes a threat not just to economic systems but also to identity. Climate regulation, energy transitions and limits on extraction are interpreted not only as economic constraints but as attacks on a worldview built on control over nature and hierarchy between people.
That is why climate backlash can be so emotional and persistent. It is not always just about jobs, prices, or technology. It can also be about defending status, belonging, and a familiar social order.
Why gender and power matter for climate policy
Research supports the idea that gender and power structures shape environmental outcomes. Comparative data across 91 countries show that higher representation of women in national parliaments is associated with more ambitious and comprehensive climate policies. This suggests that decision-making in energy and climate governance is not gender-neutral.
On the contrary, male-dominated systems, especially those aligned with extractive industries, tend to reinforce fossil fuel dependence and resist transformative change. This does not mean men are naturally destructive or women are automatically environmental. It means that the institutions built around extraction often reward the same values that petromasculinity celebrates: control, competition, hierarchy and endless expansion.
Trump, “energy dominance” and the politics of fossil-fuel nostalgia
One major example of petromasculinity is Donald Trump and the politics of his presidency. It can be seen in Trump’s slogan Make America Great Again, which appeals to nostalgia for an older social order centred on white male authority and fossil-fuel-driven economic power.
In this view, climate policies and environmental regulations are seen not just as economic threats but also as attacks on traditional masculinity, family structures and national greatness. Promises of “energy dominance” therefore become both an economic and cultural message. They suggest that a strong nation is one that drills more, burns more, and dominates nature more aggressively.
Trump’s emphasis on “energy dominance” illustrates this duality. On the surface, it is about economic independence and growth. At a deeper level, it reinforces a hierarchical worldview in which power is asserted through control of natural resources. During his first term, his administration rolled back over 100 environmental regulations, including major constraints on fossil fuel industries.
These actions were often framed not just as pragmatic policy decisions, but as necessary responses to what officials described as “burdensome” and economically harmful regulations that constrained industry and undermined “American energy dominance.” In other words, deregulation was sold as liberation, while environmental protection was cast as weakness, restriction and decline.
Beyond their economic framing, these policies also carry a symbolic meaning. By presenting environmental protections as excessive, restrictive, and ideologically driven, they were silently framed as barriers to strength, growth, and national power. As a result, deregulation is not only about economic priorities. It also reinforces a broader narrative in which dominance and control are valued, while care, precaution, and environmental responsibility are devalued. The latter are often associated with more feminine approaches.
Support from the fossil fuel industry further reinforces how economic power and cultural identity are closely intertwined. The industry invested heavily in political campaigns, aligning itself with leaders who promote expansion and deregulation. This relationship illustrates how petromasculinity operates not only as an identity but also as a political-economic system. For example, fossil fuel companies and interest groups donated at least $75 million to Trump’s 2024 campaign.
Everyday petromasculinity: rolling coal and performative pollution
It is important to flag that petromasculinity is not limited to high-level politics. It also becomes visible in everyday practices. One striking example is “rolling coal,” an anti-environmental action in which drivers modify diesel trucks to emit large amounts of exhaust gas.
Often aimed at cyclists, electric vehicle drivers, or pedestrians, this protest is less about transportation and more about symbolic resistance. It turns pollution into a gesture of defiance, a way to mock environmental concern and perform a particular kind of aggressive masculinity.
These dynamics show how fossil fuel consumption can become a way of expressing identity. It can reinforce ideas of masculinity, signal dominance, and push back against social and cultural change. As Daggett argues, climate change itself can be experienced by some as a disruption of a long-standing patriarchal order and a “breach in the dam” that triggers defensive reactions to protect existing privilege, power and control.
Why climate backlash is so persistent
Understanding petromasculinity, therefore, helps explain why resistance to climate action is often deeply emotional and persistent in politics and policies. It is not only about jobs, prices, or technological feasibility, even if those questions matter. It is also about identity, status, and belonging.
This has important implications. If resistance to climate action is rooted in deeply embedded social norms and power structures, then addressing it requires dismantling not only fossil fuel systems but also the patriarchal structures and identities that sustain them. A just transition cannot only replace one energy source with another. It must also challenge the stories that make extraction feel normal, necessary and masculine.
This means engaging critically with the cultural meanings attached to energy, work, and masculinity. It includes confronting and transforming forms of toxic and hypermasculinity that equate strength with domination, control, and extraction. For many men, this will require the need for a deeper, internal shift: unlearning harmful conditioning and rethinking what strength and security mean in a changing world.
What is required is a redefinition of masculinity toward forms of ecological masculinity rooted in care, responsibility, interdependence, and the protection rather than exploitation of life. This is not about blaming individual men. It is about challenging the political and cultural systems that teach domination as the default language of power.
Restructuring power, not only the energy system
At the same time, transformation must also happen at the structural level. The continued dominance of fossil fuel systems is closely linked to patriarchal power structures that exclude diverse voices from decision-making. Addressing this requires restructuring power in society by broadening participation and challenging male-dominated political and economic institutions that have historically prioritised extraction over sustainability.
Research shows that more inclusive governance leads to stronger environmental outcomes. When women participate in decision-making processes, communities benefit from improved risk management and greater commitment to climate action. Countries with higher representation of women in parliaments tend to adopt more ambitious climate policies and have even been associated with increases in per capita forest cover.
The Paris Agreement itself recognises the importance of gender equality and explicitly emphasises women’s leadership and participation as essential to achieving climate justice. This is particularly crucial given that women are disproportionately impacted by the climate crisis. Those most affected by climate breakdown must not be treated as passive victims, but as political actors shaping the solutions.
An ecofeminist framework for a just transition
Applying an ecofeminist perspective can be a powerful framework to address and understand these intertwined crises. Ecofeminism argues that the climate crisis and oppression of marginalised groups are connected, and that neither issue can be solved independently.
It challenges the idea that humans, particularly men, must dominate nature, and instead promotes values of care, reciprocity, and interdependence. By centring relational ways of thinking and amplifying marginalised voices, ecofeminism calls for a reorganisation of both our social and economic systems and our relationship with nature.
In this sense, an ecofeminist approach is not only desirable but necessary for a just and impactful climate transition. It provides both a critique of the power structures that sustain fossil fuel dependence and a vision for alternative futures. It asks not only how we decarbonise but also who holds power, who benefits and whose lives are protected in the transition.
In the European context, an ecofeminist approach to energy would translate into concrete policy changes. It would mean democratising energy systems by expanding community ownership and participation and treating energy as a public good rather than a purely market-driven commodity.
At the same time, it would shift policy priorities from economic growth and competitiveness toward well-being, sufficiency, and the reduction of energy poverty. In addition, it would also challenge extractive models of both fossil fuels and renewable transitions, promoting instead regenerative systems that operate within ecological limits.
Finally, it would push the European Union to move away from narratives of energy dominance and toward cooperation, interdependence, and global climate justice. Europe does not need a greener version of fossil-fuel power politics. It needs a politics of care, repair and solidarity.
Redefining strength
The politics of petromasculinity show that the climate crisis is not only a crisis of carbon. It is also a crisis of power, identity and imagination.
If strength continues to be defined as domination, the result will be more extraction, more violence and more environmental destruction. But strength can mean something else: care, responsibility, protection, interdependence and the courage to build systems that do not depend on sacrifice and exploitation.
A liveable future will not be built through dominance over nature or over one another. It will be built by rejecting the patriarchal politics that made fossil fuel destruction look like power in the first place.
