The masculinity maze: Redefining manhood from global tropes to Indian realities

"Somewhere along the way, the word masculinity became a suspect," observes Adnan Pocketwala, Growth Partner at OrmaxWhatNext. It is a piercing diagnosis of the current cultural moment. As Pocketwala notes, society has begun "to add the prefix ‘positive’, as if masculinity, by default, must be rehabilitated."

Today, the concept feels radioactive, trapped between two jarring extremes. On one side, the box office is dominated by the visceral, blood-soaked rage of films like AnimalandKabir Singh. On the other, streaming platforms and progressive brands champion a softer, emotionally intelligent man who shares domestic duties.

In this ‘split-screen’ reality, brands, creators, and men themselves are struggling to find an authentic reflection. As data reveals a disconnect between the men on-screen and the men in the audience, the question is no longer if masculinity is evolving, but what it is evolving from, and what it should become.

As Sanjay Vakharia, Co founder and CEO of Spykar says, “Too many brands are afraid of losing their traditional audience, and fall back on familiar tropes. But by doing so, they will be increasingly out of step with younger audiences who crave authenticity.”

Alaap Desai, COO & Co-founder of tgthr asserts, "An ad is a representative of how a brand thinks and acts. A decade ago it was all about masculinity and sex appeal. That's not how a brand wants to be seen today. They have dropped the toxic masculinity and the senseless sex appeal and are catering to deeper expressions and a sense of evolution in the man they use to represent themselves."

The inheritance

To comprehend this crisis, one must deconstruct the foundational model that has dominated global culture: ‘hegemonic masculinity,’ or what researchers term ‘the Man Box.’

This is not an innate biological state but a socially constructed ideal. Its tenets, stoicism, self-sufficiency, anti-femininity, and dominance, are reinforced by a rigid set of unspoken rules. Sociologist Raewyn Connell argues that this model functions to legitimise power, not just to define personality.

This archetype was actively manufactured. The ‘Marlboro Man,’ the global icon of rugged individualism, was famously a marketing invention designed in the 1950s to sell filter cigarettes, originally a women’s product, to men. The 'timeless' masculine ideal was, in reality, a commercial fabrication. And if we look at a few ads from the past and the present, it gives us a clearer idea.

Amul Macho and VIP Frenchie traded comfort for caricature, selling products through sexualised jingles and exaggerated displays of male heroism in some ads which look more like comedy or a bad skit. In parallel, Thums Up’s 'Taste the Thunder' codified the 'daredevil' archetype, teaching a generation that masculinity is measured by a man's willingness to court danger and they are still jumping off of CGI buildings and helicopters.

Raymond’s 'The Complete Man' campaign offered a softer, more sophisticated alternative. Yet, even this 'gentleman' was often framed as the benevolent patriarch, the unshakeable 'sturdy oak' of the household. Other ads reinforced darker norms. Imperial Blue’s 'Men Will Be Men' series justified the male gaze and deceit as 'natural' male behaviour. Meanwhile, the infamous Prestige Pressure Cooker tagline, 'Jo biwi se kare pyaar, woh Prestige se kaise kare inkaar' cemented the idea that a man's role was to 'gift' appliances, while the woman's inevitable role was to use them.

In India, this global construct is amplified by the unique pressures of mardangi (manliness). Here, masculinity is a collective asset, 'hinged to the notion of being the head of the family.' The ‘provider mandate’ is non-negotiable. 

Paradoxically, the rigid, stoic masculinity defended today as ‘traditional’ is largely a colonial-era overcorrection. When British rulers branded Indian men ‘effeminate’ to justify colonial rule, the nationalist response was to construct a new, hyper-masculine identity centred on strength and protection. This historical insecurity set the stage for the ‘Angry Young Man’ of the 1970s, whose rage has now curdled into the de-politicised toxicity of modern blockbusters.

Rage vs. revolution

Contemporary Indian media offers a very visible contradiction.

The loudest narrative is the ‘resurgence of hypermasculinity’ in the pan-Indian blockbuster. Films like Animal, KGF, and Pushpa are marketed with menacing, beefed-up protagonists. These films succeed not despite their toxicity, but because of it. They offer a ‘vicarious release’ for young men feeling trapped by economic anxiety and a competitive world.

However, Rakesh Gawas, Group Art Director at AGENCY09, cautions against over-reading these films as genuine role models. While acknowledging they appeal to a "primal" side, Gawas argues that "the rush ends when the movie ends," and that for most, it remains pure entertainment rather than a blueprint for living.

Sanjay Vakharia says, “Yes, films like Animal or KGF do affect culture in a certain way and they do drag towards hypermasculinity. But advertising has a different task at hand than cinema does. Cinema is fantasy and brands are reality of life people live in; a place where men can see the image of themselves that they want to be, rather than the image that is being glorified in box-office blockbusters.”

On this Alaap Desai says, "There is a huge audience in India that makes these pop culture references a hit and the same bunch is also our audience but we can't talk to them in the same way. My take in this is that when they go and watch the movie, they subscribe to that themselves."

Critically, hypermasculinity acts as a ‘pan-Indian’ unifier. To appeal to mass audiences across diverse states, filmmakers avoid divisive local issues like caste or religion. In this void, misogyny and patriarchal power become the safest, most universally understood commercial language.

Yet, a quiet revolution is unfolding on Over-The-Top (OTT) platforms. Freed from the mass-market imperative, shows like Panchayat or films like Badhaai Do champion ordinary and evolved masculinity. Here, actors like Ayushmann Khurrana and Pankaj Tripathi portray men defined by sensitivity, vulnerability, and allyship.

The advertising disconnect

If cinema represents the extremes, advertising represents a lagging reality. A landmark July 2025 report from Kantar, ‘The Indian Masculinity Maze,’ exposes a staggering gap between perception and portrayal.

An audit of 457 advertisements revealed that 94% still reinforce outdated, traditional male roles. Only 6% of male characters were depicted offering respect or emotional care, and a mere 1% were shown involved in household roles.

"Every now and then, a campaign cuts through that noise," notes Sandeep Banerjee, Chief Growth Officer at The Visual House.

He points to Zomato’s Father’s Day film or Myntra’s ‘Father’s Drip’ as rare exceptions that worked because they "didn’t preach; they simply held up a mirror." Banerjee adds: "They showed men with softness, humour, and self-awareness... And men recognised themselves in that honesty."

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But for the majority of brands, the gap persists. "Brands aren’t struggling because men have changed too fast. They’re struggling because they’ve replaced the idea of masculinity with the imagery of masculinity," argues Adnan Pocketwala. "The modern man in ads has been reduced to a visual trope. Either he is gym-toned and a badass or someone pastel-wearing, emotionally articulate on demand."

Alaap Desai asserts that brands need to actually take a stand, "The public scrutiny that brands receive deepens the fear of getting it wrong even more. As a result brands try to take the simple and safest stand possible. The problem with that is that everyone is doing it and as a result they don't stand out. I feel that's why when a brand actually takes a stand, it seems fresh and people notice it more."

This lack of nuance is alienating younger audiences. Vaishal Dalal, Founder of Excellent Publicity, notes that 60% of Gen Z men feel ads overemphasise confidence and appearance. "The modern Indian man is no longer defined by the old ‘stoic provider’ mould," Dalal explains. "He is caught between tradition and transition... balancing ambition with empathy."

The lag is a commercial failure. Kantar’s data proves that ads challenging stereotypes yield a +63 point lift in long-term brand equity. Yet, brands remain risk-averse. And Ariel's 'Share the load' campaign is a perfect example of that.
Rakesh Gawas attributes this inertia to the fact that "India has 50 internets," meaning the country isn't evolving in unison. Consequently, advertisers "try too hard to stay in a safe zone... It's safer to appeal to a shrinking majority opinion than a growing minority opinion."

The backlash and the 'manosphere'

This cultural turmoil is the sound of a privilege being challenged. The traditional ‘provider’ role is failing as women increasingly share the financial burden; the ‘patriarchal’ role is failing under legal and social scrutiny; and the ‘binary’ role is failing with the rise of LGBTQ+ visibility.

The resistance is digital. The ‘Indian Manosphere,’ a network of online communities, is repackaging global misogyny for local audiences. Influenced by figures like Andrew Tate, this ‘desi’ variant fuses anti-feminism with nationalist rhetoric, framing the "protection" of traditional gender roles as a civilisational duty.

From performance to practice

The solution is not to replace the ‘Man Box’ with a new set of rigid rules, but to dismantle the box entirely. Experts advocate for "Positive Masculinity" defined not as a status to be achieved, but a daily practice of emotional intelligence, gender equity, and "action empathy."

For brands and creators, the path forward requires moving beyond hollow gestures. "Most ads offer men nothing to stand on, just a soft-focus stereotype wearing linen, participating in housework and smiling gently," Pocketwala critiques. This performance of softness feels inauthentic compared to the visceral, albeit toxic, clarity of films like Animal.

Vaishal Dalal suggests that 2026 could be "the year of the soft man," where media finally catches up to reality, showing men who are "tender, diverse in body type, expressive, flawed, warm, and comfortable with vulnerability."

Sandeep Banerjee echoes this potential, noting that if brands choose honesty over hype, "masculinity isn't at threat. It becomes contemporary, relatable and deeply human."

Sanjay Vakharia asserts, “The future of advertising that we will see is not afraid of being soft, wears intuitively and without fear, and shows that manhood can change without becoming manless. When brands listen, the coming years can be a year of defining the new way of how men are represented not as superheroes, not as stereotypes, but real people with complex identities. That is the transition we ought to be developing towards.”

However, the most durable path lies in integrating these views. As Pocketwala concludes: "The answer isn’t ‘positive masculinity.’ It’s restored masculinity... Let it be softness rooted in something sturdier, a man who is soft because he is strong enough and knows it."

The modern Indian man is evolving. It is time for the stories told about him to do the same — not by painting a prettier picture, but by holding up a truer mirror.