As a Marine veteran and lifelong football fan, I spend my weekends glued to the screen—Saturdays agonizing over Ohio State's near-misses, Sundays riding the emotional roller coaster that is the New York Giants. With NFL Sunday Ticket and every streaming service known to man, I see plenty of other games too. But every two years, the political ads interrupt. Sometimes I mute them. Other times I watch and ask the same question: Are MAGA men genuinely afraid of everyone—anyone who doesn't look, think, or live exactly like them?
Take the two most obvious targets: transgender Americans and Muslim Americans. Republicans have poured over $180 million into warning voters that these communities are the root of their problems—not the Iran war, not tariffs, not corporate greed. As a California liberal who grew up in New Jersey and went to Harvard, I've met maybe three transgender people in my entire life. None of them turned me into anything. They just became friends.
The same hysteria applies to Muslim Americans. Vote Democrat, they say, and Sharia law will sweep the nation. It didn't happen under President Barack Obama's eight years. It hasn't happened in New York City despite warnings about Mayor Zohran Mamdani. In Anaheim, I can visit Little Arabia—no jihadists, just incredible food. Yet MAGA ads insist that electing someone like Abdul El-Sayed in Michigan will break the dam and let Islamists overrun the country. Twenty-five years after 9/11, this anti-Muslim rhetoric hasn't made us safer; it undermines efforts to identify real extremists. Treating everyone as a suspect only makes it harder to find the actual criminals.
In 2024, many young men voted for Donald Trump. There are plenty of reasons, but masculinity is a big one. The feeling is that being a man in America is harder than it used to be. It's not catastrophic, but it's not great either. Male suicide rates are high, especially among white men. Marriage and kids are tougher to afford. Homeownership is out of reach for many. And more women than men earn college degrees, which means they might out-earn their male peers.
Is this the fault of feminists, wokeism, communists, or Democrats? Not exactly—but liberals didn't help. Every conversation about toxic masculinity seemed to devolve into claims that all masculinity is toxic. “Always choose the bear,” they'd say. People railed against the patriarchy to guys just trying to get through the day. Even corporations lectured us—remember that Gillette ad? You'd think Republicans would offer better solutions.
Instead, the right-wing manosphere focused on the trivial. We were told to get angry about comic book characters, women—especially Black women—in movies, women's sports we don't watch, and a host of other distractions. We were bombarded with pick-me girls, Only Fans creators, superficial dating apps, and bros selling us on the importance of our coffee choice or steak preference. Amid the noise, there was attention. And Republicans seized it, claiming they understood what men were going through.
But as the midterms approach, I have to ask: Is falling for fear-mongering part of being a man? Actively seeking out people who are different and finding common ground is what ensures peace and stability—exactly what this country needs. Polling shows that's what young men want too. We need men to adapt not just financially, but socially, so they can thrive. Teaching them to live in fear only puts them behind the eight ball.
Franklin Roosevelt famously said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” MAGA Republicans are telling men to fear everyone. Which mindset is manlier?
Joslin Joseph is a recipient of the 2025 Military Reporters and Editors award for Best Commentary/Opinion. A graduate of Harvard and Ohio State, he is a Marine veteran who served in Iraq. He lives in Anaheim, California.
