I have a confession: I tried looksmaxxing. Before you judge me though, let me explain how I ended up there in the first place. Anyone born at the tail end of the 1990s or the early 2000s will probably agree with us saying that our generation once carried the promise of breaking a very specific cycle. Raised alongside conversations around inclusivity, body positivity, mental health, and dismantling rigid gender expectations, many of us were led to believe that masculinity might gradually evolve into something softer, less performative, and more conscious of the damage it can cause. Yet, somewhere along the way, we found ourselves back to square one, with a growing subsection of young men around the world trying to actively rebuild that exact ideal under a new, supposedly better looking, banner: looksmaxxing.
Increasingly prevalent since the start of the new decade, early Urban Dictionary entries from around 2020 describe the practice as “the process of making yourself look better.” But what initially appeared to be yet another internet-born self-improvement trend has since developed into something far more revealing about the state of masculinity online today. Stemming from the same digital ecosystems that first popularized Red Pill ideology, incel culture, and blackpill fatalism throughout the late 2010s, looksmaxxing reframes male insecurity and social anxiety as problems that can allegedly be solved through (extreme) physical optimization.
“As many young men push back against gender equality and reframe it as producing male disadvantage, looksmaxxing offers a seductive explanation for exclusion: you are simply aesthetically deficient, and that can be fixed,” Dr. Jordan Foster, assistant professor in the Department of Sociology at MacEwan University, and Jillian Sunderland, PhD candidate in sociology at the University of Toronto, recently wrote while examining the phenomenon’s rapid rise online. Their analysis also offers a possible explanation for both the movement’s birth and the speed at which it has spread across the internet.
To them, understanding why looksmaxxing has gained so much traction requires looking beyond social media algorithms and toward the broader conditions shaping young men’s lives today. As Foster and Sunderland explain, “the economic and social foundations of traditional masculinity” have become obsolete over the years, as stable careers, home ownership, financial security, and even the ability to provide for a household—all markers once closely tied to conventional ideas of manhood—have become significantly harder to attain. And as “the economic and social foundations of traditional masculinity weaken, the cultural scripts linking men to guaranteed partnership, power and authority have become less certain,” pushing many to seek validation elsewhere and convincing them that “recognition and status can be reclaimed through straightforward investments in their appearance.”
Inside that vacuum has stepped a new generation of internet personalities acting as self-appointed gurus, life coaches, and surrogate father figures for increasingly disoriented young men searching for direction in a world where older models of masculinity no longer exist. Among the most emblematic figures to emerge from that ecosystem is Clavicular, a controversial American streamer and self-described looksmaxxer whose rise online has become almost inseparable from the movement itself. Through videos obsessively dissecting facial structure, masculinity, hierarchy, and physical dominance, the influencer has cultivated a devoted audience of predominantly young males drawn not only by the promise of becoming more attractive, but to the broader fantasy that self-worth, power, and status can somehow be engineered through appearance alone.
And our region is not immune to the phenomenon either. Across Arabic-speaking corners of the internet, creators have started introducing local audiences to the same principles and ideas that have already wreaked havoc in the West. One of the most recognizable examples is Kareem Shami, better known online as Syrian Psycho, a self-described “Godfather of Looksmaxxing,” whose videos revolve around facial aesthetics, “glow-ups,” jawline optimization, gym culture, and masculine hierarchy. Similarly, creators such as Dr Hamouda have amassed substantial followings too through similar content, also seen dissecting facial symmetry, attractiveness, skincare, and techniques supposedly capable of helping young men “glow up” or become more desirable.
And if the phenomenon wasn’t already problematic enough in the West, its implications arguably become worse across the region, where many of the beauty standards being promoted remain deeply rooted in Westernized ideals of attractiveness to begin with. Sharp jawlines, lighter eyes, narrower noses, leaner facial features, specific body types; many of the aesthetics celebrated within looksmaxxing culture reinforce the idea that desirability is tied to Eurocentric features. With that in mind, the pursuit becomes even more unattainable for us, the frustration harder to escape, and the result is a generation taught to view their own selves through standards they can’t ever realistically meet. And the Western archetype bleeds into nearly every aspect of the culture, from the terminology being adopted to the facial exercises, diets, and routines being promoted.
Take the term Chad for instance—used to describe the supposedly ideal man within these circles, the one that sits at the very top of the pyramid—and its feminine equivalent, Stacy; both expressions reveal just how deeply the movement remains rooted in strikingly Western, almost unmistakably American, visions of attractiveness, desirability, and social success. And once those designations start making their way into the region, the gap between the standards being promoted and the realities of the people consuming them on our side of the world —already considerable to begin with—only grows wider.
The same logic applies to some of the movement’s main recommended practices. Bone Smashing, which refers to the act of repeatedly hitting certain areas of the face—usually the jaw or cheekbones—with hard objects in the hope of creating a sharper, more angular appearance, is rooted in the pursuit of facial features long associated with Western masculine beauty standards. The same can be said for “hunter eyes,” another popular looksmaxxing obsession centered around achieving a narrower, deeper-set eye shape through techniques such as eye pulling, squint training, or even taping the corners of the eyes back in an attempt to create a colder, more dominant appearance. And the pattern repeats itself with mewing — perhaps the easiest entry point into the phenomenon — where users repeatedly press their tongue against the roof of their mouth in the belief that it will eventually sculpt a sharper jawline and more conventionally attractive facial structure over time.
Taken individually, most of these practices already sound absurd within the Western contexts that produced them. But once transplanted into the region, the entire ordeal takes on an even more contradictory edge as young Arab men increasingly find themselves encouraged to pursue facial structures, aesthetics, and performances of masculinity rooted in standards they can’t realistically embody.
Which brings me back to my own brief, deeply humiliating descent into looksmaxxing:
Mewing
I started with what seemed easiest: mewing. The technique revolves around pressing your tongue against the roof of your mouth in the hope of gradually sculpting a sharper jawline over time.
Simple in theory. In practice, it quickly becomes impossible not to feel completely insane while consciously thinking about tongue placement every six seconds. Roughly five minutes in, my tongue felt like it had just completed leg day, I could barely chew properly anymore, and I had somehow adopted the posture of someone hiding a mild concussion. All this for a technique doctors and orthodontists still cannot even agree actually works.
Hunter Eye-Training
Next came “hunter eye training,” where men attempt to create a sharper, colder, supposedly more dominant gaze by physically manipulating the area around their eyes. According to TikTok and Reddit tutorials, all I had to do was place two fingers near my temples, pull the skin slightly back, lower my eyebrows, squint, hold the expression, and repeat daily until my face evolved into something more masculine.
Other than making me look like I was trying to solve advanced calculus while fighting back tears, the exercise achieved very little. Which makes sense considering bone structure cannot magically be altered through squinting. And if you don’t want to take my word for it, ask literally any medically trained professional whose understanding of facial anatomy extends beyond Discord forums.
Bone Smashing
If mewing and hunter eye training still vaguely belonged to the world of harmless internet nonsense, “bone smashing” made me stop scrolling entirely. Unlike aggressively squinting at yourself in the mirror, this one quite literally involves hitting your own face with hard objects in the hope of becoming more attractive.
At first, I assumed it was satire. Then I watched one particularly committed teenager lightly tapping a hammer against his jaw and realized, with some concern, that everyone involved was being completely serious. Needless to say, this was where I opted out. There is simply no universe in which voluntarily battering your own face qualifies as self-care. The only way I can imagine this working is if you injure yourself badly enough to require reconstructive surgery, at which point you may as well ask the surgeon to sort your jawline out while they’re there.
Eyelash Trimming
@edenn65 PLEASE be very careful , it you don’t have steady hands I suggest you dont even try this hack! Ive been doing this for a while bc I love how effective it is but, I only do it bc i trust myself to do it, again be careful !! You don’t have to cut all the way to the stem of the hair just get as close as you can #beautyhack ♬ som original – G7️⃣
Another branch of looksmaxxing culture I refused to touch was eyelash trimming. At some point, masculinity discourse became so warped that parts of the internet collectively decided men could apparently have “too many eyelashes,” and that long lashes were somehow feminine. Watching tutorials for this genuinely felt surreal: grown men standing over bathroom mirrors with tiny scissors, carefully trimming one of the few universally attractive features most people, especially Arab men, naturally possess. I skipped this one too, mainly because the prospect of explaining a corneal injury by saying “I was trying to become more alpha” felt too humiliating to even entertain.
The Verdict
After all of this, I couldn’t stop thinking about how self-rejection is quietly becoming the default setting for an entire generation. What presents itself as confidence-building almost always produces the exact opposite: a permanent state of inadequacy where the body is endlessly evaluated against impossible ideals.
So boys, a quick reminder: women gaining more rights was never the reason you struggled in the first place. And contrary to what half the internet seems determined to convince you of, the answer is not hidden inside jaw exercises, “hunter eyes,” or some obsessive pursuit of physical perfection either. Go outside. Develop a personality beyond masculinity podcasts and Reddit threads. Learn how to communicate, be funny, be kind, be interesting. You’ll quickly realize most people care far less about whether your jawline resembles a Greek god’s than the internet would have you believe.