10 Ways Toxic Masculinity Shows Up in the Outdoor Industry
The outdoor industry is a tool of ongoing colonization—a well oiled machine of exploitation of the Land, our bodies, and “resources,” complete with white nationalist propaganda that implies “this land is your land,” when in reality this land is stolen, Indigenous land. From pervasive microaggressions to colonial narratives embedded in its myriads expressions (from mountain biking, cycling, rock climbing, thru-hiking, running, etc.), these spaces often feel unwelcoming and unsafe, especially for those from marginalized communities.
One way that ongoing colonization is maintained is through toxic masculinity, a pervasive force shaping how we interact with nature (and all spaces). But what does it mean, and how does it manifest in the outdoor industry?
Toxic masculinity is a white supremacist ideal of manliness, rooted in dominance, aggression, and emotional repression. bell hooks (may she Rest in Power) links “imperialist-white supremacist-capitalist-patriarchy” in her work to convey that these systems are inextricably intertwined. It can be assumed that when we say “white supremacy” we’re also talking about these other oppressive systems. You can’t have one system of oppression without the other. They always show up together.
In an episode of the podcast Hoodrat to Headwrap, "Toxic Masculinity: How to Be a White Cis Man 101," hosted by the incredible Ericka Hart and Ebony Donnelly, Hart says:
"You have to take a step back to talk about that it's a colonized world inside of white supremacy. And white supremacy carries patriarchy, which also perpetuates this idea that bodies are supposed to only be cisgender, heterosexual, able-bodied bodies. ONLY. And white. It's not even supposed to be Black. A body is supposed to be a white body. That's it.”
Ebony Donnelly then adds that masculinity is, "…not inherently toxic, however, the pathways to aspiring to its colonized iteration are all toxic.”
In other words, toxic masculinity is an expression or articulation of imperialist-white supremacist-capitalist-patriarchy as bell hooks called it. It’s one way that these systems of oppression are lived out and embodied—that is to say physically, materially, tangibly, bodily, psychically.
People often conflate the phrase “toxic masculinity” with the belief that men are inherently “bad,” but this is far from the truth. The phrase is used to distinguish and name how our society rewards harmful expressions of masculinity. We all possess masculine and feminine qualities no matter our gender. Despite how doggedly white supremacy wants to assert the gender binary, masculinity and femininity can’t be contained inside of, or reduced to, a binary.
So, how Does Toxic Masculinity Rear Its Ugly Head?
1. “Micro” Aggressions
Mansplaining, bikesplaining, policing people’s clothes/gear/behavior etc. “Microaggressions are everyday derogations, slights, and invalidations directed toward folks with marginalized identities,” according to clinical psychologists P. Priscilla Lui and Lucia Quezada who wrote this article. They can have a deleterious impact on someone’s mental, emotional, physical and spiritual health, making these aggressions not so “micro.” They may be seemingly subtle, and the micro-aggressor may frame their harmful comment or question as just a joke, just trying to be helpful, just asking an innocent question, or just giving a compliment.
According to this article, “though some are meant to cause harm, many are unintentional. But targets of such comments suffer psychological distress, including an increase in symptoms of depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder, and can face backlash if they speak up,” (Torres, L., & Taknint, J. T., Journal of Counseling Psychology, Vol. 62, No. 3, 2015; Abdullah, T., et al., Traumatology, online first publication, 2021).
As Christina Torres and I discuss in this episode of the Terra Podcast, we shouldn’t focus on the intention as much as we should be concerned about the impact and center the most marginalized in these dynamics. Too often the person who commits a microaggression doubles down on their harmful comment or behavior instead of adopting a humble approach, taking accountability for the misstep, and doing whatever is needed to repair the situation. Microaggressions are a huge reason why marginalized communities create their own affinity spaces so that folks can feel safer. As a society we should be in full support of affinity groups or any groups the de-center white people and straight men.
2. Exclusivity and Gatekeeping
The outdoor industry often celebrates an image of the "ideal" adventurer or athlete—usually white, able-bodied, and equipped with expensive gear. This perpetuates a sense of exclusion, alienating those who don’t fit into this mold. We see another example of exclusivity and gatekeeping in climbing where this looks like not telling new climbers where certain climbing spots are located. This can also look more subtle in the ways in which there is an unspoken pressure to perform to near impossible standards to even be taken “seriously” as a climber, cyclist, runner (insert activity here).
3. Hyper-Focus on Achievement Over Experience
This segues nicely into our third point: the outdoor industry often frames activities in terms of accomplishments—summiting mountains, breaking records, and pushing one’s limits, usually to the extreme. This focus on achievement over pleasure and enjoyment can make time spent outside feel like an individualistic competition where one feels the need to constantly “prove” themselves, rather than experiencing the outdoors as a means to connect more deeply with their body, mind, spirit, community, and the environment.
The pressure to perform is a result of living inside a capitalist society that conditions us to believe that everything we do must have a “productive” end goal that returns some kind of “investment” (getting stronger, better, faster, leaner, skinnier, more attractive to white supremacist patriarchal beauty standards) otherwise it holds no value.
Savoring moments outside or in any kind of activity where you’re moving your body and just *being* is counter to capitalism’s demand that we remain hyper-focused on improving ourselves, optimizing our bodies and lives. If we’re not focused on optimization and perfection in this way then we’re not “working hard” enough, we’re not accomplishing enough. Even inside of what is considered to be a hobby or past-time, we’re deemed “lazy” if we’re not constantly seeking to “improve.”
4. Environmental Hypocrisy
While the outdoor industry markets itself as “eco-friendly” or “sustainable,” many companies contribute to environmental harm. From the mass production of gear and clothes in factories that exploit and abuse their workers (looking at you, Patagonia) to expeditions on Chomolungma, so-called Mt. Everest, that leave behind dead bodies and tons of waste, there’s often a disconnect between the industry’s greenwashed image and its actual impact on the planet and people. This hypocrisy can be disillusioning for those of us who are genuinely invested in environmental justice and stewardship.
As Bani Amor asked in their piece published in Bitch Magazine (Bitch has since sadly closed, so you can’t read the full article anymore, but you can check out these screenshots on Instagram),
“How much more life, both human and environmental, must be sacrificed to satiate the Western adventurer’s unending thirst to check another box on a bucket list?”
5. Lack of Acknowledgment of Indigenous Land, Histories, and Presence, “Benevolent Patriarchy,” and Peter-Pan Syndrome
Outdoor spaces are often spoken of as untouched “wilderness,” or “virgin” as Alex Honnold describes in his recent film “The Devil’s Climb,” but this overlooks the fact that Indigenous peoples have lived here for time immemorial. The industry rarely acknowledges the Indigenous history of the lands it profits from in a substantial way, and hardly, if ever, gives proper credit, gratitude, and payment to Indigenous leaders and activists who are the real environmental heroes. Instead outdoor media, more often than not, reinforces colonial narratives and ignores the need for truly reparative, restorative action.
During filming “The Devil’s Climb,” Honnold and Caldwell had the privilege to be guided by Indigenous activist, Marina Anderson and receive an educational tour of the lush landscape of Tongass National Forest. But National Geographic cut out any and all scenes with Anderson and any conversations about the reality of ongoing colonization in that region because it didn’t fit into the narrative of the white colonizer fantasy of “pristine,” “untouched” “wilderness,” and ultimately because National Geographic felt centering whiteness was more profitable.
You can learn more about Marina Anderson and her activism in this podcast episode from A Matter of Degrees that highlights Tongass and the Tlingit, Haida, and Tsimshian peoples who have fought to protect it. For many, this lack of respect and recognition for Indigenous stewardship doesn’t go unnoticed, yet mainstream media insists on perpetuating tropes like the “benevolent patriarch” where white men become the protagonist of outdoorsy films traipsing around like Peter Pans on stolen land they describe as their “playgrounds.” They’re determined to evade the fact that their ability to do so lies in the ways they benefit from ongoing colonization.
“In We Real Cool: Black Men & Masculinity, bell hooks defines benevolent patriarchs as men who exercise their power without using force. These men are nice but still none the less, patriarchally oppressive,” writes Dr. Shay-Akil McLean. Benevolent Patriarchy can also refer to a framework in which predominantly white male protagonists are positioned as heroic figures or saviors, often under the guise of protection, progress, or moral superiority. This narrative perpetuates a colonial mindset that has historically justified violence, exploitation, and harm by framing such actions as necessary for the 'greater good.' Whether depicted through stories of personal redemption or as saviors of land and people, this ideology glosses over and absolves accountability for the destruction, oppression, and systemic harm inflicted in the process. Benevolent patriarchy is not always overt; its subtler forms persist in modern contexts, maintaining the same underlying power dynamics of domination and control masked as altruism.
You can hear the benevolent patriarchy in this episode of the podcast Climbing Gold, in which Honnold and Caldwell give a “behind the scenes” look at the filming of “The Devil’s Climb.
6. A “Conquer” Mindset
The language used in the outdoor industry often revolves around “conquering” peaks or “dominating” nature, reflecting a mindset rooted in toxic masculinity and colonial attitudes. This language frames nature as something to be overcome, rather than related to as something sacred as Indigenous communities encourage us to do. Instead of relating to the Land as a collaborator, white athletes, climber, cyclists, etc. see the Land as an “adversary.” The narrative becomes one of “adversity” and “winning the battle” against the trials and tribulations Mother Nature presents. The resulting culture can feel aggressive, hostile, ego-driven, and disconnected from a genuine reverence for the natural world and the original stewards.
7. Focus on Individualism Over Community
The outdoor industry often celebrates individual achievement and self-reliance, as if “pulling yourself up by your bootstraps” is morally superior or even a possibility. We know that no one gets to where they are alone. But there’s an obsession with being “the first”—all the better if you get there by pushing your body beyond its limits, taking risks, and doing it all “unsupported.” White people particularly have systemic power and privilege that allow them to accomplish these so-called great feats. It begs the question, is it really that impressive if you began with a set of advantages and privileges from the beginning that others don’t? Because there are probably many others who could achieve these milestones too, but just don’t have the same luxuries, privileges, and power to do so.
All of this detracts from, and ultimately sabotages, the sense of community and collective care that many people crave, and that we all need in order to build towards collective liberation. While solo adventures can be meaningful, the emphasis on individualism is a product of white supremacy culture. This cultivates feelings of isolation and fragmentation.
8. Financial Barriers and Gear Obsession
There’s an unspoken message in the outdoor industry that you need specialized gear to be a “real” outdoor enthusiast (climber, cyclist, runner, birder, hiker, etc). The emphasis on premium, brand-name equipment stems from racialized capitalism where people are made to feel inadequate if they can’t afford the latest gear. Jolie Varela of Indigenous Women Hike often speaks about this kind of elitism, racism, and classism in the outdoor industry, and how you don’t need the latest Patagonia jacket to connect with the Land. This gear obsession distracts from the truth that reclaiming one’s relationship with nature and being “outdoorsy” doesn’t have to require an expensive price tag. (Of course, we also acknowledge that having access to green space is an environmental justice issue in and of itself. *And* we can re-define what “outdoorsy” means and what it looks like by honoring all ways of connecting with nature like going for a walk in your neighborhood, sitting on your stoop or in a park, bird watching out your window, barbecuing, reading on a blanket or bench on a hillside, etc.)
9. The Continued Centering of Whiteness
Despite the fever pitch of brands and companies rallying to hire a DEI expert, the efforts to abide by anti-racist, anti-oppressive values have swung in the complete opposite direction. DEI programs and positions are being cut left and right, as we see the upswell of white nationalism becoming more mainstream in politics (Harris appeasing fascism instead of demanding an end to Palestinian genocide, and Trump being elected) and media (the trend of Trad Wives on Tik Tok and The True Lives of Mormon Wives).
As previously mentioned, “The Devil’s Climb” is a prime example of the outdoor industry’s doubling down on centering whiteness. Tommy Caldwell admits in the podcast Climbing Gold that “The Devil’s Climb” was supposed to highlight and center the Indigenous leadership and advocacy of Tongass National Forest, but the opposite happened. This white-washing reinforces Indigenous erasure and dispossession, perpetuates a narrow idea of who belongs in outdoor spaces, and maintains a culture that is permissive of white supremacy setting the stage for right-wing politics thrive.
10. Pressures to “Be a Man”
When someone unironically says “be a man” they’re pointing to the script that white, cisheteropatriarchy gives people who were assigned male at birth. They’re telling that person to commit to the performance of what “manliness” looks like, talks like, acts like, etc inside of imperialist-white supremacist-capitalist-patriarchy (again, thank you bell hooks). The notion of "being a man," as shaped by white cisheteropatriarchy, underpins much of the toxic masculinity we see in the outdoor industry. This expectation reinforces harmful behaviors and attitudes, trapping men in a cycle of emotional suppression, aggression, and performative strength. It is inherently transphobic, as it ties masculinity to rigid, patriarchal ideals of gender that exclude and devalue those who do not conform.
A prime example of someone suffering from the doctrine of what it means to “be a man” in this society is Alex Honnold. We can see the detrimental impacts of patriarchy on him in really any piece of media that he’s featured in, but nothing exemplifies the consequences of white, cisheteropatriarchy on men quite like the award-winning documentary Free Solo.
Throughout the film, Honnold embodies the doctrine of toxic masculinity that demands men detach from their emotions and prioritize achievement above all else. As bell hooks writes in The Will to Change, “Patriarchy rewards men for being out of touch with their feelings,” (p. 70). Honnold’s inability to process or express his emotions is a hallmark of this reward system, which values stoicism and physical prowess over vulnerability and connection, which has deleterious affects on someone’s mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual health.
The documentary subtly reveals the toll this takes on Honnold’s relationships and well-being. From his self-described “bottomless pit of self-loathing” to his ex-girlfriends’ feedback about his toxic behavior that he dismisses without accountability, Honnold’s life serves as a case study in how the pressure to “be a man” breeds isolation and harm. His mother’s motto, “Almost isn’t good enough,” compounded by a childhood devoid of emotional safety, pushed Honnold toward a path of obsessive achievement. It’s clear he internalized this emotional neglect, which manifests in his disregard for the feelings and needs of his loved ones, primarily his partner Sanni. She bears the emotional labor of trying to teach him attunement and emotional intelligence—a burden that I can’t imagine any cis, het woman being unfamiliar with since this is an all too common dynamic inside of heteronormative relationships.
How Can We Disrupt Toxic Masculinity?
As hooks writes, “Everyone needs to love and be loved—even men. But to know love, men must be able to look at the ways that patriarchal culture keeps them from knowing themselves, from being in touch with their feelings, from loving.”
If we want safer outdoor spaces, the industry must move beyond these toxic ideals of manhood. Men need to take responsibility for their power, privilege, and emotional growth as well as their impacts (whether intentional or not). Disrupting the pressure to “be a man” in the ways patriarchy demands would foster healthier personal relationships, as well as an outdoor culture rooted in consent, collective care, and equity.
For those of us who feel disconnected or drained by the industry as it is, the answer lies in reclaiming our agency and power, and healing and reimagining our own relationship with the Land, our bodies, and our communities. It’s crucial to create safe(r) spaces that are truly rooted in anti-oppressive values and cultivating real community where we can define what “outdoorsy” means on our terms, and where we can access a sense of accomplishment without compromising our mental, emotional, physical, or spiritual health.
Let’s resist the mainstream outdoor industry’s pressures to exploit ourselves and the Land for some empty and vapid promise of “prestige” or “excellence,” and instead focus on shaping our relationship with the Land as one of collaboration as Indigenous communities have been imploring us to do all along. Embodying this will bring us closer to our goal of environmental justice.
