Abstract
A growing body of scholarship finds that hegemonic masculinity is evolving to produce hybrid masculinities that contain elements of both dominant and marginalized masculinities. Hybrid masculinity theory argues that incorporating marginalized masculinities into the mainstream conceals inequality while continuing to reproduce it. Regarding sexuality, however, the bulk of this research has centered heterosexual men’s perspectives on non-heterosexual masculinities. Instead, I ask: How do non-heterosexual men experience masculinity? Based on interviews with 29 non-heterosexual men, I find pressures to fit within a “goldilocks zone” of masculinity, emphasizing a floor and a ceiling to idealized masculinity. The goldilocks masculinity produced by these bi-directional pressures mirrors and elaborates upon hegemonic masculinity and hybrid masculinity, including emphases on the dominant themes of race, class, and body. I situate goldilocks masculinity as a subtype of hybrid masculinity, while also focusing on how men from the margins simultaneously incorporate and distance themselves from hegemonic masculinity.
For decades, hegemonic masculinity (Connell, 1987) has been a dominant framework for understanding contemporary gender inequality. More recently, scholars have begun documenting and theorizing hybrid masculinities, which incorporate aspects of femininity and/or subordinated masculinities and thus more subtly fortify and conceal gender inequality (Bridges and Pascoe, 2014; Bridges, 2014). Strikingly, however, these studies have primarily highlighted how individuals more proximate to the center borrow elements of the margins, generally leading to a focus on young, white, middle-class, cisgender, heterosexual men.
Yet, there are reasons to suspect that masculine expectations play out differently among heterosexual and non-heterosexual communities of men. Given that “gayness continues to be socially defined in many contexts as the embodiment of whatever is expelled from hegemonic masculinity” (Messerschmidt, 2018: 126), one might assume that non-heterosexual men would be invested in challenging hegemonic masculinity. However, research on marginalized masculinities has found that subordinated men sometimes internalize and reproduce the ideologies that oppress them (Chen, 1999). Therefore, it is worth investigating how non-heterosexual men uphold or challenge the processes used to marginalize them within wider society.
I address this gap by exploring how non-heterosexual men experience masculinity and whether these experiences reflect hybrid masculinity and/or the workings of hegemonic masculinity and gender inequality. Based on a grounded theory analysis (Charmaz, 2006) of interviews with 29 non-heterosexual men, I explore how the men I interviewed symbolically distance themselves from hegemonic masculinity while simultaneously upholding gendered exclusion and inequality (Bridges and Pascoe, 2014). I find that hegemonic cultural notions of gender are highly salient and that they connect to marginalization around body type, sexual position/role, race, class, age, and gender performance. I explore how these axes of marginalization are linked with gender, highlighting the importance of intersectional approaches (see Crenshaw, 1989) in improving our understanding of contemporary masculinities (see also Bridges, 2019). Ultimately, I find support for the theories of hegemonic masculinity and hybrid masculinity. I also find support for the concept of goldilocks masculinity (Abelson, 2019), which emphasizes the hazards of inadequate and excessive masculinity. In the discussion, I contribute to Abelson’s situating of goldilocks masculinity as a subtype of hybrid masculinity. Moreover, while Abelson focuses on trans men, I explore how goldilocks masculinity functions among non-heterosexual men, a particularly relevant population given that hegemonic masculinity is often framed in opposition to non-heterosexual men (see Brooks et al., 2017; Herek, 1986) and that research on hybrid masculinities has focused heavily on heterosexual, cisgender, middle-class, young, white men.
Hybrid masculinities
Hegemonic masculinity (Connell, 1987) has informed much sociological investigation of masculinity. As the concept has developed, scholars have emphasized the relational and fluid nature of hegemonic masculinity, conceptualizing it as a process that discursively legitimates unequal gender relations between men and women, between masculinity and femininity, and among masculinities (Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005; Messerschmidt, 2018). Connell and Messerschmidt (2005) contend that hegemonic masculinity legitimizes men’s dominant position in society not only by subordinating women, but also by subordinating marginalized masculinities, such as those that are not heterosexual. Thus, homophobia and distinction from gay men have been identified as core factors in the production of hegemonic masculinity (Carrigan et al., 1985; Connell, 1987, 2005; Diefendorf and Bridges, 2020; Mishel et al., 2021).
Some have suggested, however, that hegemonic masculinity lacks a sufficiently nuanced understanding of inequality (Bridges and Pascoe, 2014), noting that mainstream masculinities are beginning to incorporate gay (and other marginalized) masculinities. These scholars explore how incorporating aspects of marginalized masculinities into the mainstream obscures inequality while reproducing it (Bridges and Pascoe, 2014). The theory of hybrid masculinity “refers to men’s selective incorporation of performance and identity elements associated with marginalized and subordinated masculinities and femininities” in a way that “symbolically distance[s] men from hegemonic masculinity” to both conceal and buttress inequality (Bridges and Pascoe, 2014: 246).
Existing literature on hybrid masculinity examines how incorporating aspects of non-heterosexual masculinites, as marginalized masculinities, into more mainstream heterosexual masculinities creates this symbolic distance (e.g., Bridges, 2014; see also Heasley, 2005) but has mostly not examined the internal dynamics of non-heterosexual masculinities. As a result, this literature helps us understand how dominant masculinities incorporate elements of marginalized masculinities, but not vice versa. By including perspectives of non-heterosexual men, I address this gap to explore what sexually marginalized masculinities can tell us about contemporary hybridization.
Managing gender marginalization
Men from marginalized groups, who often lack access to the tools used to prove masculinity (such as heterosexuality, whiteness, making money/consuming products, being physically independent) (Chen, 1999; Gerschick and Miller, 2008; Rios, 2011) respond to this marginalization in varying ways. Some criticize norms surrounding gender, but others engage in a “hegemonic bargain,” which occurs when an individual from a marginalized position leverages one aspect of his/her identity (e.g., race, class, sexuality, etc.) to elevate another aspect which is under threat Chen (1999: 586). Chen writes that the concept of hegemony, “describes the historical process of establishing a commonsense... worldview that functions to secure the consent of the oppressed in their own oppression”. Through this understanding of hegemony, we see hegemonic masculinity as a process in which victims can act as accomplices to their own subjugation (and to the subjugation of others).
Connell’s (1992) finding that her gay respondents “reject hypermasculinity, but also dislike queens, i.e., effeminate gays” (746) could be understood as indicating a “hegemonic bargain” (Chen, 1999). However, this dynamic may also be understood as stemming from dueling pressures: namely, the pressure to adhere to masculine gender norms and the pressure to be legibly gay. Social psychologists have found that gay men engage in gendered appearance practices to avoid the risks both of appearing “too gay” and “too closeted” (Clarke and Smith, 2015). Similar studies have found related gendered appearance concerns in being legibly read as lesbian (Huxley et al., 2014) and navigating being both an “authentic lesbian” and an “authentic individual” (Clarke and Spence, 2013). Wetherell and Edley (1999) found a similar dynamic in how (presumably heterosexual) men position themselves against excessive masculinity.
In many ways, this dual-pressure dynamic reflects Abelson’s (2019: 21) findings of trans men pursuing a “[g]oldilocks masculinity [that is] not too masculine and not too feminine.” This idealized masculinity is framed as neither toxically hypermasculine nor as weak and effeminate but rather as a moderate masculinity that is “just right” (Abelson, 2019: 47). Thus, goldilocks masculinity uses both femininity and certain classed and racialized masculinities—such as those associated with “rednecks and “thugs”—as foils to manage embodying a subordinated masculinity. Importantly, Abelson situates goldilocks masculinity not as a rejection of hegemonic masculinity but rather as a hybrid masculinity that leaves the gender order generally unchallenged.
Gender, sexuality, and Intersectionality
The above findings (see Abelson, 2019; Connell, 1992; Clarke and Smith, 2015; Clarke and Spence, 2013; Huxley et al., 2014; Wetherell and Edley, 1999) suggest that the process of managing gender marginalization often intersects (see Crenshaw, 1989) with other power relations, such as race, class, and, of course, sexuality. Indeed, research indicates that men who are not heterosexual are disadvantaged by the traditional gender order, since their masculinity is frequently invalidated due to their sexuality. Researchers have found, for example, that terms such as “fairy,” “sissy,” and “fag” are not simply about sexuality but hold gendered, demasculinizing meanings (Hamilton, 2007; Pascoe, 2011). Pascoe (2011) argues that in approaching use of the word “fag” simply as homophobia, research misses sexualized insults’ gendered nature. This analysis pushes us beyond viewing the word “fag” as only a product of homophobia and to instead view it (and the specter of the homosexual itself) as part of a discourse of regulatory masculinity and gendered inequality.
Although the specific intersection of gender and sexuality has received a great deal of attention, scholarship indicates that it is vital to examine how other power relations—like race and class—factor into gender management (see also Bridges, 2019). Pascoe (2011), for example, finds that “fag discourse” is racialized, applied differently by and toward white boys than by and toward Black boys. This is hardly surprising, given research documenting the interconnectedness of race, gender, and sexuality (e.g., Collins, 2002; Han, 2015; Holland, 2012; Vidal-Ortiz et al., 2018). Wider cultural currents in the U.S. have historically emasculated and feminized Asian men (Eng, 2001), for example, while Black men have historically been hypersexualized and hypermasculinized (Collins, 2004). Indeed, research finds that racialized and gendered ideals operate concurrently among non-heterosexual men (Rafalow et al., 2017), with Asian men often treated as effeminate and undesirable and Black men often treated as hypermasculine sex objects (Wilson et al., 2009). These dynamics intersect with racialized images of the body, such as the stereotype that Black men have large penises and are sexually aggressive and that Asian men have small penises and are sexually submissive (Grov et al., 2015). Moreover, even when men of color are valued, they still face gendered and racialized stereotypes, with Black men often valued as dominant/penetrative partners versus Asian men often valued as submissive/receptive partners (Han, 2006).
There are strong signals that intersectional analyses of managing gender marginalization should incorporate elements beyond gender, sexuality, race, and class. Researchers have noted, for example, the gendering of sexual positions by non-heterosexual men, with “tops” (those who are insertive during anal intercourse) sometimes perceived as more masculine and more dominant than “bottoms” (those who are receptive) (Almaguer, 1993; Ravenhill and De Visser, 2018). Others have found that “feminine” men are presumed to be bottoms while “masculine” men are presumed to be tops (Kowalski, 2016). This gendering process, combined with anti-effeminacy among non-heterosexual men, works alongside longstanding associations between sexual penetration and dominance (see Bersani, 1987) and can lead toward marginalization of bottoms (Brooks et al., 2017). These meanings attached to bottoming are not monolithic, however (e.g., Dowsett et al., 2008; Hoppe, 2011), and some have noted that bottoming can be both feminine and masculine (e.g., Nguyen, 2014) or even understood as a sign of hypermasculinity (e.g., Dean, 2008).
Other intersections are worthy of consideration as well. Research indicates, for example, that ageism is deeply tied to gender and sexuality (Hurd Clarke et al., 2014; Slevin and Linneman, 2010), because older age implies lower strength, lower libido, lower testosterone, lower-quality erection, etc., all of which are all feminized. Others, however, have noted the sexualization of older gay men as “daddies,” or even as “predators” or “perverts” (Goltz, 2007). Research also finds that bodies themselves are gendered and sexualized in varying ways, with a toned, muscular body often framed as both more masculine and more sexually desirable (Brennan et al., 2013). Class is also relevant, given findings that gay identity privileges middle-class gay people and understandings of sexuality—and that this class bias is reinforced as gayness becomes a lifestyle category (Valocchi, 1999). Given findings that consumption and fulfilling the bread-winner role is integral to the establishment of contemporary masculinity (e.g., Holt and Thompson, 2004) and that working class men are associated with hypermasculinity (Vokey et al., 2013), it is also worth considering how wealth and class may connect to gender management.
Altogether, then, previous research suggests that the gender dynamics are best understood when analyzed as interwoven with other power relations, such as race, class, age, and sexuality. It is with that outlook that I approach this project.
Data/methods
Following grounded theory techniques (Charmaz, 2006), I conducted in-depth, semi-structured interviews with 29 non-heterosexual men. A grounded theory approach involves using a flexible interview guide, allowing questions to evolve as the interviewer collects data (Charmaz, 2006). Furthermore, this method uses sampling techniques aimed toward theory construction rather than toward population representativeness (Glaser and Strauss, 2017). After each interview was transcribed, I used initial coding to describe what each segment of the interview was about (Charmaz, 2006). Following this, I used focused coding to find similarities between interviews. All coding was inductive, which involved constructing analytic codes and categories as they emerged from the data, rather than from codes and categories logically deduced from hypotheses (Glaser and Strauss, 2017). After focused coding, I wrote memos exploring similarities between interviews. This process was conducted while collecting interviews, which I continued until reaching saturation related to the emergent categories.
Respondents were asked (among other things) whether they think the gay and/or LGBTQIA+ community is inclusive, whether they personally feel included in those communities, what the boundaries of inclusion consist of, and whether there is an “ideal” non-heterosexual man/what that ideal entails. Interviews ranged from 30 min to 2 h and were conducted in person in 2018. Respondents were not compensated, and all names have been changed to pseudonyms. Respondents were recruited via Grindr, a geosocial networking and online dating app geared toward gay, bisexual, trans, and queer people. Recruitment was passive, with potential respondents reaching out to a project profile that explained that the researcher was “recruiting participants for a research study about non-straight male sexual identities.” Although Grindr is often viewed as an app used by men looking for casual sex with men, research has found that this accounts for less than half of users, with many users reporting that they use Grindr to “kill time” when bored, to make friends, or to meet potential romantic partners (Goedel and Duncan, 2015). Furthermore, survey research has found that Internet daters do not differ along demographic factors (such as race, gender, or education) from single Internet users who do not use online dating services (Sautter et al., 2010) and that Internet dating is the most common way gay couples meet (Rosenfeld and Thomas, 2012). Nonetheless, Grindr users are not a random sample of non-heterosexual men (this sample may, for example, entail a class floor, since the app essentially requires a smart phone; moreover, the experiences of these respondents may not reflect those of non-heterosexual men who are not Grindr users or who abstain from LGBTQ+ social/virtual spaces), but being present on the platform involves at least a minimal level of engagement in the non-heterosexual community. In fact, since Grindr is a space for men seeking men, users are more likely to be attuned to what makes an individual desirable in (at least certain) non-heterosexual settings. This means that Grindr users may be maximally attuned to inequalities operating within non-heterosexual spheres. Still, Grindr likely constitutes a specific sexual field (Green, 2014), thus reflecting a logic of desirability that is potentially limited not only regionally but also specifically to Grindr rather than to “non-heterosexual men” as a whole.
Respondent demographic information.
1Rather than superimposing racial categories onto respondents based on what they reported, I use the terminology reported by each respondent.
Findings
Respondents overwhelmingly identified a hierarchy centered around an ideal type of non-heterosexual man. There are multiple dimensions to this ideal, including: body type; sexual position/role; race; class; age; and gender performance. At a glance, these dimensions may appear disparate, but closer analysis reveals that these dimensions intersect and are often tied to gender and gendered inequality. Furthermore, my data suggest not only lower limits to acceptable masculinity, but upper limits as well, leading me to further advance the concept of goldilocks masculinity.
Body ideals: Pursuit of the “coveted jock”
Respondents repeatedly spoke about the prized status of possessing a “nice” body, often clearly linking these ideals to gender. Isaac, a 19-year-old college student who identified as racially mixed (Palestinian, Italian, and Black) put this succinctly: “I think today the stereotypical gay guy… has a nice physique, nice athletic body.” The perceived pressure to possess a toned, muscular body was repeatedly raised by respondents. All of my friends, literally all of my friends, are on testosterone. And you know they are breaking out, gaining weight, just to fit into the stereotype of the coveted jock, masculine jock. (James, 28, Asian-American).
James directly ties the body standards among non-heterosexual men, as he sees them, to masculinity, and the ideals he and Isaac (and others) articulate surrounding athleticism, being a “jock,” and even literally adding testosterone to one’s body are clearly gendered and normatively masculine. Nonetheless, it is worth considering that “queer muscles are not the same as straight muscles” (Halperin, 1995: 117). This may be true, but the argument that “[g]ay men work out not in order to conform to an average or received standard of male beauty” (Halperin, 1995: 118 [emphasis added]) is not reflected in my interviews. Instead, respondents articulate a pressure to conform to these toned, muscular body ideals.
Strikingly, body pressures remain true even at events that are ostensibly the most inclusive and welcoming of diversity, such as Pride. Luís, a 40-year-old who migrated to the United States from Mexico in 2014, explains: The Gay Pride parades are essentially a cult of the fit body. If you’re not able to—or if you don’t feel comfortable as to removing your top shirt and, like, running around in speedos… then you cannot be there. You cannot be on the cars. (Luís, 40, Latino)
Another respondent even called Pride “toxic,” explaining: You have these go-go boys and hot men in next-to-nothing on floats, dancing around promoting what we should look like. And it’s just kind of like these are the people that have been chosen to be on the float, so obviously these are the top-tier of our community. These are the people that you should aspire to be… I’ve never seen, you know three Leather Bears [i.e., large, hairy men] on the float at LA Pride. You know, it’s usually your go-go boys that also double as porn stars. (Dominic, 35, White) [emphasis added]
Possessing a toned body was repeatedly raised as important in determining who was, at “the top-tier of our community.”
Sexual role/position: “Tops” on top
Sexual position/role was also a frequently-raised issue, and one in which gender’s influence is again clearly visible. Hegemonic masculinity is also more readily visible on this axis. Most respondents said that being a “top” (one who penetrates during sex) placed one higher in the gay hierarchy than being a “bottom” (one who is penetrated during sex). Alfonso (33, Latino) put this bluntly: “If you’re gay, it’s okay. As long as you’re not a bottom.” These top/bottom roles map onto the roles of normative heterosexual sex, with the top filling the role of man/penetrator and the bottom filling the role of woman/penetrated. In this light, gender clearly operates at this axis of marginalization as well, with tops perceived as more masculine than bottoms. James, for example, identifies—and pushes against—several gendered stereotypes related to sexual roles. It’s just like there’s so many like reinforcers of these… ideas that aren’t true. Like, that all bottoms are submissive. Or all bottoms are short. Or all tops are masculine. (James, 28, Asian-American)
Being “submissive” or “short” marks an individual as failing to meet the masculine ideal, and James notes that each characteristic is associated with being a bottom, though he challenges these ideas as untrue. Furthermore, James’ final point that it is frequently assumed that “all tops are masculine” alludes to equating bottoming with femininity. One respondent, Gerald, admitted to making jokes that denigrate bottoming, despite his critiques of “bottom-shaming” in other parts of his interview. You know, I still make jokes about it with my partner. As if the bottom was less than. And even as I’m making it, to this day I still think This doesn’t make any sense. Why is this even funny? But it’s ‘Ooh, she got a secret.’ (Gerald, 43, White).
Gerald’s joke would not make sense in reference to a top: there would be no reason to keep the role of top “secret” nor to use the pronoun “she.” The joke only lands because the desire to hide the inferior, feminine status of bottom is culturally intelligible (see Hoskin, 2019).
“Masc only” and the subordination of femininity
Perhaps the most visible instance of hegemonic masculinity related to the preference for “masc” (masculine) men over “fem” (feminine) men. Sorting men into the categories “masc” and “fem” was described by multiple respondents as ubiquitous among non-heterosexual men. This sorting is not value-neutral; many respondents described the exclusion of fems as commonplace in the romantic/sexual marketplace. Indeed, several interviewees listed “masc only” on their Grindr profile. One such respondent, Gil, rationalized the explicit exclusion of fems as saving time: I think [saying “masc only” on my profile] is a big help… If I know [whether someone is masculine], it will kind of save some time. … If I wanted someone girly, I would be with women. (Gil, 54, Hispanic)
The categories of masc and fem are essentially derivative of broader cultural notions of masculine and feminine. A masc non-heterosexual man largely meets the expectations of normative, idealized masculinity. He is physically strong, wears “masculine” clothing, and interacts with others in a way that is not “faggy” (i.e., feminine). Although some non-heterosexual men self-identify as fem, respondents overwhelmingly describe fems as toward the bottom of the pecking order. This is often rationalized by suggesting that a sexual interest in men naturally denotes a preference for masculinity. Gerald put this concisely: I think within the gay community, [most people] want masculine… I’ve seen it a hundred times: ‘I’m gay for a reason. I like masculinity, so don’t be fem.’… A lot of [gay] guys won’t even be seen with fems, even just as friends. (Gerald, 43, White)
In addition to suggesting that some gay men avoid fems, Gerald’s statement alludes to the equating of being a man, and thus the potential object of gay male desire, with masculinity. This association naturalizes and legitimates the exclusion and subordination of fem men. Fems are considered to be interested in more traditionally feminine-coded activities, such as cosmetics, and to present in ways that are viewed as feminine, such as wearing more feminized clothing, nail polish, etc. Fem men are also presumed to have “feminine” mannerisms (“limp” wrists, higher-pitched voices, etc.). Importantly, fem men are also presumed to overwhelmingly be bottoms (penetrated during sex) while masc men are presumed to predominantly be tops (penetrating during sex) (Kowalski, 2016). Recall that respondents also express that being a “top” comes with more status than being a “bottom,” so the melding of masc/fem and top/bottom keeps this hierarchy consistent.
Ageism and classism
The remaining axes of marginalization raised by respondents—age, class, and race—may seem less obviously rooted in gender. Still, examining respondents’ statements reveals that these factors are gendered and pervasive. One respondent stated that the exclusion of “old” men was so taken for granted that it rarely needed to be explicitly stated: It’s implied. If you’re old, you’re a sugar daddy. You know… And [with] these younger kids, it’s like ‘why would we hang out with you? You’re old and fat.‘… You’re not a good fuck anymore. (Dominic, 35, White)
Another respondent, Will, expressed experiencing ageism even more dramatically: [P]eople kind of leave me alone now. When you’re over 30, you might as well be dead, in the gay community. [laughs] We’re just the old daddies. (Will, 37, White)
It may seem strange to interpret this as related to gender, but the connections stem from assumptions that older age implies lower strength, lower libido, lower testosterone, lower-quality erection, etc., all of which are all feminized. Indeed, when I asked Dominic why being old meant you were not a “good fuck,” he said that it was often assumed that older men had less sexual stamina.
Class also emerged as an important boundary-maker, with some respondents noting wealth’s importance in placing one at the top of the non-heterosexual hierarchy. This took the form of being able to take expensive vacations to being able to afford fashionable clothing or a night out clubbing. Respondents rarely dwelled on class/wealth-based distinctions, but many, such as Franky, said that money played a role in the hierarchy of the gay community: I sometimes feel like I’m looked down upon by other gays because I work in fast food and don’t have money... I literally can’t afford to go clubbing or whatever when I’m living paycheck to paycheck. (Franky, 23, Mexican/some White)
Franky does not connect these class and wealth-based exclusions to gender. This connection is more explicit in Samuel’s comments: I used to think that they [other gay men] might stop stereotyping me as a “sissy,” “small dicked” Filipino if I got a job that would get me rich. (Samuel, 35, Filipino)
As this quote suggests, lacking the resources to go on lavish vacations or expensive nights out clubbing not only literally excludes one from activities involving other non-heterosexual men, but also potentially marks an individual as failing at masculinity.
Racial exclusion: “If you’re white, you’re at the top”
Race was also repeatedly mentioned as an axis of exclusion, particularly in reference to discrimination against Asians. In fact, multiple respondents referenced the phrase “no fats, no fems, no Asians” as evidence of the ubiquity of racial exclusion, and the phrase has also emerged in previous research on non-heterosexual men (Han, 2008). While exclusion of Asians was mentioned more frequently than exclusion of any other racial group, some respondents laid out a more comprehensive racial hierarchy. If you’re white, you’re already at the top. And if you’re good looking, then you’re at the top. And if you’re white, good looking, and have money, you are the absolute combo: you are the most desirable person in the world. And from that down. I mean, here in the U.S. it’s very clear that if you’re white, you’re [at] the top. And if you’re Latino or Middle Eastern, you’re second place. And then at the very, very, very low bottom, if you’re Asian or Black. I’m not sure which is lower there, but you’re very undesirable. (Alfonso, 33, Latino)
The gendered implications of this racialized hierarchy are multifaceted. Asian men, for example, were likelier to be feminized and stereotyped as submissive/receptive sex partners, while Black men were likelier to be hypermasculinized as dominant/penetrative sex partners. Ozzy recalls experiencing the latter in his comments: I sometimes feel like [other gay] people assume I’m a super manly—almost animalistic—hunky top just because I’m Black. And I know Asian guys kind of get the opposite assumption… It feels bad. (Ozzy, 21, Black)
Meanwhile, James recalls an incident that highlights a very different racialized sexualization: “One of the instances [of stereotyping my race was] like there’s this 18-year-old kid that he just kept messaging me on Grindr. He kept saying like, ‘I want you,’ and I was like ‘In what way?’ And then he was saying all these sexual things about me. He says, ‘I want you to call me master.’ And I said, ‘Why?’ and he goes, ‘It turns me on.’ And … I was having a field day with that. It was fun, it was fun in the beginning. And then he said, ‘I want to put you in your place as a white master.’ And I said, ‘Excuse me?’ He goes, ‘I want you to submit to me and know your place.’”(James, 28, Asian-American) [emphasis added]
James’ story provides a vivid example of not only the racial subordination of Asian men (submitting to the “white master”), but also how this connects to gendered and sexualized subordination (implying that James’ race marks him as naturally submissive, while also demonstrating the unstated assumption that James, as a person racialized as Asian, will fill the feminized sexual role of bottom).
Excessive masculinity: “The queers hate me because I’m too butch”
Asian men, then, face marginalization because they are perceived as inadequately masculine. Black men face marginalization because they are perceived as excessively (hyper)masculine. The apparent contradiction of devaluing Black men despite their valuation as presumed tops is, at first, particularly puzzling. Together with the marginalization of Asian men, however, this suggests that whiteness acts as an idealized middle zone of masculinity. This is indicative of an important dynamic that emerges in my data: idealized masculinity among non-heterosexual men is often downwardly and upwardly bounded. Despite the pressure respondents reported to be adequately masculine, a number of respondents also articulated feeling pressured in the other direction: namely, to avoid being excessively masculine. For some respondents, like James, this largely involved “know[ing] how to dress” and keeping up with pop cultural trends. James: You have to know how to dress. You have to know pop culture… You have to know your brands. There’s such a high expectation. Like, like once you’re like—let’s just say, I hate saying this, but “openly gay.” They expect you to be x, y, and z. There are gays who don’t know how to dress and they’re like “well, what kind of gay are you?”…
Interviewer: Okay, and what’s the implication if you don’t know how to dress or various pop culture things? James: Basically, that you’re fronting. Like, pretending to be straight by being all stoic and masculine. So, basically that you still have one foot in the closet. (James, 28, Asian-American)
As James notes, these qualities are linked to being “openly gay,” implying that non-heterosexual men who lack them are insufficiently out of the closet. Also notice that James ties the inauthenticity of lacking pop culture and sartorial capital to “pretending to be all straight by being all stoic and masculine.” This implies that this is feminine and legitimizes an “openly gay” (and thus authentic) identity, with excessive masculinity positioned as potentially delegitimatizing an “openly gay” identity. Another respondent, Will, alludes to this in describing his personal experiences of being “chewed out” or “dismissed” for being inadequately gay. Will: I can’t sing along with any ABBA songs, and that insults certain individuals. I’ve actually been chewed out a few times. Interviewer: By whom? Will: Eh, like random drunks in bars. Not really chewed out, but kind of I guess sort of dismissed or whatever. Interviewer: By gay guys, you mean? Will: Yeah. Interviewer: So in what way? What did they do exactly? Will: Oh just the—it hasn’t happened a ton. But just a lot of, like, there’s someone—I was called out for—well, before I was out [of the closet] out, I got chewed out a lot for… not being well-dressed enough, not—attire, my choice of hobbies, my choice of music, my lack of interest in certain things. Like I don’t like drag shows. And that, like, offended—really offended—somebody… Interviewer: So, what do they say to you, exactly? Will: I think the general is how dare I call myself ‘gay’? You know. “I don’t belong. I’m an insult to the community.” Oh! “I am denying myself, my true nature.” (Will, 37, White)
Again, we see that Will’s lack of supposedly feminine interests and sensibilities (such as fashion, pop music, and drag) delegitimize his claim to gay identity, perhaps suggesting he is “too closeted.” At the conclusion of his interview, Will described even more explicitly the feeling that his masculinity was often deemed inappropriate by other non-heterosexual men. I was a mechanic when I was a kid… So yeah, the queers hate me because I’m too butch. (Will, 37, White) [emphasis added]
Given the prized status of “masc” men and of other markers of hegemonic masculinity (athleticism, a “toned” body, etc.), the marginalization of certain non-heterosexual men for being “too” masculine is surprising. However, respondents suggest that skepticism of excessive masculinity is tied to suspicions that those who are “excessively” masculine are the victims of internalized homophobia and are not truly “out of the closet.” I definitely know that I find myself—and I know other gay guys who do this too—being suspicious of [gay] guys who seem like they’re acting really masculine. Like okay, ‘bro,’ you don’t have to pretend anymore. And I just don’t have time to deal with someone else’s internalized homophobia. (Drake, 24, Latino/Asian)
Upward bounding of masculinity was less prevalent in the data than downward bounding. Nonetheless, this upward bounding of excessive masculinity is important theoretically, as it demonstrates identity concerns that can mask the functioning of hegemonic masculinity. Overall, my data suggest that idealized non-heterosexual masculinity involves achieving a goldilocks zone of masculinity that regulates both inadequate and excessive masculinity.
Discussion
The bulk of research on hybrid masculinities (Bridges and Pascoe, 2014; Bridges, 2014) has focused on how men/masculinities closer to the hegemonic center appropriate masculinities (and, to a lesser degree, femininities) from the margins. This study shifts the focus to how marginalized men incorporate aspects of the center, while also distancing and distinguishing themselves from that center. My findings suggest that proximity to dominant, normative masculine ideals can elevate non-heterosexual men’s position among non-heterosexual men, but that excessive proximity presents risks. Thus, this study highlights that hybrid masculinities may often involve upper limits to masculinity, a fact that is implied in much hybrid masculinities research but has not been deeply explored.
In many ways, this upward and downward bounding of idealized masculinity reflects Abelson’s (2019: 21) findings of trans men pursuing a “[g]oldilocks masculinity [that is] not too masculine and not too feminine.” Goldilocks masculinity, which Abelson situates as a subtype of hybrid masculinity, specifically highlights the competing concerns faced by the men in this study to both maintain a stake in the privileges incurred by masculinity (and thus to avoid being too “feminine”) and to avoid being read as “inauthentic” (and thus to avoid being too “masculine”). Exceeding the goldilocks zone of masculinity can mark an individual as being closeted, homophobic, inauthentic, and, therefore, unwelcome. Put simply, my interviews suggest not just a floor to acceptable/desirable masculinity, but also a ceiling.
The bi-directional bounding of idealized masculinity found in this study also reflects social psychological studies’ findings that gay men engage in gendered appearance practices to avoid the risks both of appearing “too gay” and “too closeted” (Clarke and Smith, 2015), mirroring similar dynamics found among lesbians (Clarke and Spence, 2013; Huxley et al., 2014) and even among (presumably) heterosexual men (Wetherell and Edley, 1999). In other words, the men I interviewed appear to face pressures both to make a hegemonic bargain (Chen, 1999) and to avoid the appearance of doing so. This sometimes led participants to say things that legitimize gender inequality and their own subordination while also being critical of their own actions. Take, for example, Hassan’s response when asked about the preference for “masculine” men: It’s complicated because I kind of get it [the preference for “masculine” men], but I don’t want to. Like, I really want to be really opposed to it. I don’t know, like, I’m really thankful that that’s not how I, umm, feel. Like, that’s not who I want to be hooking up with exclusively? Just like masculine men? But I do see myself put off by men who I think are too feminine, umm, sometimes. (Hassan 23, Pakistani-American)
Even men like Hassan, who recognize and critique inequalities they help to reproduce, can perpetuate that subordination. To some degree, this reflects the pervasive nature of hegemonic cultural beliefs—and the pressure to stake a claim in manhood—in which the oppressed can become agents of their own oppression (Chen, 1999). In this light, Hassan’s response does not highlight individual hypocrisy, but rather the nature of hegemony, in which even individuals who are ambivalent toward gendered inequalities can uphold them. This explanation does not, however, account for the countervailing pressure to be legibly non-heterosexual. This helps to better contextualize why this study highlights an upward bounding of idealized masculinity while other studies of hybrid masculinities among men closer to the center have not: the men I interviewed face dueling pressures to claim masculine privilege and to be readable as authentically non-heterosexual.
Navigating these dueling pressures can create something of a tight-rope experience for these men. Worth noting, however, is that the ideal these men describe may be just that: an imagined, ideal type rather than a literal individual or group (Winer, 2020). Also worth noting is that respondents frame certain sexual roles (i.e., top and bottom) as fixed, but it is undoubtedly possible for individuals to move between sexual positions—and to label one’s sexual position preference as “versatile,” or enjoying both bottoming and topping. These caveats notwithstanding, respondents paint a collective picture of an ideal masculinity. One respondent articulated this ideal, goldilocks masculinity as essentially being “straight-acting” (i.e., behaving in a way that does not put one’s presumed heterosexuality into question), muscular, and attractive, but also comfortable wearing high heels at Pride. In other words, the ideal non-heterosexual man should appear effortlessly masculine, but not so invested in masculinity that he is unwilling to engage in minor and occasional acts of gender transgression. Yet, the purpose of this transgression appears to often be fueled not by the impulse to challenge hegemonic masculinity (Connell, 1987; Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005; Messerschmidt, 2018), but instead to symbolically distance oneself from hegemonic masculinity and gain coveted subcultural capital (Thornton, 2016).
My findings also highlight the value of considering hybrid masculinities with an intersectional lens (see Crenshaw, 1989), echoing Bridges’ (2019) call to bring an intersectional approach to masculinities studies more broadly. Many of the markers of both excessive and inadequate masculinity articulated by respondents do not solely concern gender but instead touch upon other systems of power and inequality as well. For instance, reflecting previous studies finding associations between working class men and hypermasculinity (e.g., Vokey et al., 2013), being a mechanic might, as Will put it, mark him as “too butch,” but it also carries working class implications. Building on previous findings that non-heterosexual identities have become defined through middle-class sensibilities (Valocchi, 1999), Will’s experience highlights the intermingling of gender and class boundaries. Likewise, being “old” can be marginalizing not simply due to age per se but due to the gendered presumptions of older men having lower strength, lower libido, lower testosterone, lower-quality erection, etc., and thus being inadequately masculine (Hurd Clarke et al., 2014; Slevin and Linneman, 2010). An intersectional approach also highlights how men of color fall outside of the “goldilocks zone” of masculinity due to gendered racialization processes (see Collins, 2002) in which racialized and gender ideals operate concurrently (see Rafalow et al., 2017; Wilson et al., 2009). This leads certain groups, like Asian men, to be gendered as inadequately masculine (Eng, 2001; Han, 2006) while other groups, such as Black men, are gendered as excessively masculine (Collins, 2004). Viewed this way, whiteness is implicitly situated as an idealized middle zone of masculinity (see also Ward, 2008). Rather than viewing these various axes of marginalization—gender, race, class, age, sexual position, the body—as operating separately, an intersectional approach encourages us to view them as operating interconnectedly. Goldilocks masculinities and other hybrid masculinities thus (re)produce not only gendered inequalities but other types of inequality as well.
Limitations and future directions
My positionality as a white, queer-identifying, non-immigrant, cis man in my 20s made me quite similar (in some demographic respects) to some respondents, but markedly different from others. This may have made some respondents feel more comfortable than others in sharing their opinions and stories. Moreover, the scope of this study undoubtedly shapes the form and particulars of non-heterosexual communities and masculinities discussed herein, since the participants are drawn from one region of Southern California with its own race, class, cultural, geographic, and other dynamics—and also because the age composition of respondents is skewed toward men in their 20s. The hierarchies identified by my respondents may reflect a “sexual field” (Green, 2014) that is contextually specific. For example, although many of my respondents describe bottoming as feminized, receptive, and looked down upon, previous research finds discourses of bottoming that do not subordinate reception to penetration (e.g., Dowsett et al., 2008; Hoppe, 2011) or that situate bottoming as both feminine and masculine (Nguyen, 2014) or even hypermasculine (Dean, 2008). Additionally, subordination of Asian men was raised more frequently than of any other race, but this may simply reflect the demographics of my respondents and the region of this study, both of which have a sizeable proportion of individuals of Asian descent. As such, my findings related to exclusion of Asian men are supported directly by respondents’ statements, while the conclusions I draw related to Black men rely more heavily on previous research. Importantly, certain qualities (such as wealth) do not seem to put one at risk for being excessively masculine. It is hard to imagine a man’s masculinity coming under suspicion for being “too rich.” Furthermore, my data is unable to discern whether the penalties facing excessive masculinity are commensurate with those facing inadequate masculinity, but it seems likely that the disadvantages accompanying inadequate masculinity are greater and/or more pronounced. Further research is necessary. Future research should also more deeply explore the intersectional dynamics within goldilocks masculinitities and other hybrid masculinities. Scholars should also examine whether the upward bounding found in this study is a necessary component of hybrid masculinities more broadly or if it is contextually specific.
Conclusion
Most studies of hybrid masculinities examine how men proximate to the center of gendered power borrow elements of marginalized masculinities (Bridges and Pascoe, 2014; Bridges, 2014; see also Heasley, 2005; Silva, 2017). This study flips that focus to explore how men closer to the margins borrow elements of the center. I find that respondents collectively describe an idealized goldilocks masculinity (Abelson, 2019) in which both inadequate and excessive masculinities can be marginalizing. Moreover, I find that goldilocks masculinity is not defined solely on gendered lines but is influenced by intersectional dynamics that (re)produce inequalities related to race, class, age, sexual position, and the body.
Superficially, goldilocks masculinity’s distancing from certain aspects associated with hegemonic masculinity (such as heterosexuality) makes it appear less invested in hegemonic masculinity. Ultimately, however, goldilocks masculinity does little to challenge hegemonic cultural norms surrounding gender. This echoes hybrid masculinity theory’s contention that incorporating aspects of marginalized masculinities into dominant masculinities gives the appearance of challenging gender inequalities while actually re-entrenching them (Bridges and Pascoe, 2014). Despite outwardly pro-feminine aspects of communities of non-heterosexual men, such as the popularity of certain famous women as “gay icons” (Guilbert, 2018), misogyny is far from absent in non-heterosexual spaces (Hale and Ojeda, 2018; Johnson and Samdahl, 2005; Taywaditep, 2002). However, through its veneer of progressivism (e.g., denouncing homophobia) and transgression (e.g., wearing heels at Pride), goldilocks masculinity not only allows non-heterosexual men to legitimate not only exclusion and inequality on the basis on gender, but also along the lines of race, age, class, and body.
This goldilocks masculinity appears to emerge in the context of (often implicit, if not unconscious) desires that exist in tension with one another: (1) the desire to maintain a stake in masculine privilege and (2) the desire to be read as an authentic member of the non-heterosexual community. This sometimes leads to hegemonic bargains (Chen, 1999) in which non-heterosexual men draw upon hegemonic masculinity to mitigate the subordinating effects of their sexuality. It also sometimes leads these men to distance themselves from hegemonic masculinity, often by distancing themselves from “excessive” elements of masculinity. The symbolic distance from hegemonic masculinity that is enabled by goldilocks masculinity can give a misleading impression that these men are critiquing (or at least not participating in or benefiting from) hegemonic masculinity. This mirrors research on hybrid masculinities (Bridges and Pascoe, 2014; Bridges, 2014). However, by shifting the focus to how marginalized masculinities appropriate dominant masculinities, rather than vice versa, this study emphasizes the masculinity ceiling implied in hybrid masculinity theory (see also Abelson, 2019).
Although this study focuses on gender inequalities this dynamic (re)produces among men, it likely buttresses gender inequality between women and men as well. As discussed by previous scholars (Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005; Messerschmidt, 2018), both dynamics are central to hegemonic masculinity. Still, this goldilocks masculinity does not so much directly reproduce the hegemonic masculinity of violence, domination of women, emotional suppression, etc. as much as it fails to critically interrogate masculine domination. Future research should examine whether goldilocks masculinity functions within heterosexual masculinities (as studies such as Wetherell and Edley, 1999 suggest)—and even if a similar dynamic operates for women vis-à-vis femininity (as suggested by studies such as Clarke and Spence, 2013; Huxley, 2014). Expectations of femininity, for example, produce a “double bind” for women. This double bind appears to be a lose-lose: any course of action can “expose one to penalty, censure or deprivation” (Frye, 1983). For non-heterosexual men, however, meeting the goldilocks zone of masculinity (though difficult and constraining) is a win-win: it allows them to avoid repercussions of femininity and of excessive masculinity in their own community.
Footnotes
Acknowledgments
The author wishes to thank Dr Catherine Bolzendahl, Dr David John Frank, and Dr Sabrina Strings for their insights in drafting this manuscript.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
