Cucked: The Manosphere Distances Itself From Newly Corrupt President, But Where's The Apology?

By Michael Portney

There’s something nauseatingly familiar about watching the manosphere distance itself from Donald Trump. The smug podcasters, YouTube comedians, and dopamine-fueled crypto-bros who helped repackage authoritarianism as locker-room banter are suddenly acting like they were never really sold on the guy. Like they just happened to be in the room when things went sideways. Like they’re the victims.

They’re not. They’re the accomplices. And no amount of awkward walk-backs or strategically timed “concerns” changes that. If anything, it makes it worse. They want a reset without reckoning, a rebrand without repentance. But some of us have been watching the whole time, and we’re not buying it. We don’t forget.

Welcome to the Walk-Back Tour

The catalyst, of course, is Epstein. Trump’s sleazy, evasive non-answer about his ties to Jeffrey Epstein landed like a wet towel on the heads of men who have spent years insisting that their movement was about truth-telling, red pills, and revealing the rot in elite circles. Suddenly, Trump looked like what he always was: a rotting elite in a cheap suit.

Theo Von—once a soft-spoken everyman turned Trump-adjacent influencer—posted a clip of J.D. Vance demanding the Epstein client list be made public. Von added a shrug in text form: "Yeah, what changed?" Oh, I don’t know, Theo. Maybe what changed is that the guy you hosted, hyped, and humanized just exposed himself as part of the cover-up. Maybe what changed is you realizing your audience is starting to see through it.

Joe Rogan, always playing the plausible deniability card, started sounding uneasy too. One moment he's laughing about Trump memes, the next he’s wondering aloud why Epstein's files are sealed and why the DOJ under Trump is stonewalling. A lot of "just asking questions" from a guy who built a media empire by platforming conspiracy theorists until they were no longer convenient.

Andrew Schulz is fuming about the Epstein stuff being "insulting to our intelligence." That might be the first time he’s admitted his intelligence was ever part of the equation.

And then there’s Shane Gillis, throwing shade in that signature style of his—the kind where you can always say later, "Oh I was just joking."

Make no mistake: this isn’t a rebellion. It’s a pivot. These men aren’t defecting from the movement. They’re trying to save face while staying in the movement. They’re losing faith in Trump, not in the ideology that gave rise to him. That distinction matters.

The Cult Cracks, But the Cult Remains

For years, the manosphere cast Trump as the ultimate alpha: brash, unapologetic, crude, dominant. They loved him not in spite of his moral rot, but because of it. He was the mirror image of their own posturing. He bullied the press, belittled feminists, scorned the rule of law, and took pride in not reading. He was everything a generation of emotionally stunted men were told they couldn’t be. And when Trump said "fuck you" to accountability, they saw freedom.

So what happens when the alpha slips? When the emperor suddenly looks less like Julius Caesar and more like your racist uncle caught lying on Facebook again? The cult doesn’t collapse. It morphs.

You can hear it in the tone. Theo Von isn’t furious. He’s confused. Rogan isn’t betrayed. He’s curious. They’re not condemning Trump—they’re distancing themselves, just enough to preserve their brand if the ship goes down. If Trump rebounds, they’ll be right back in his corner, acting like nothing happened.

That’s not courage. That’s cowardice.

The Non-Apology Tour

And here’s the part that really sticks in the throat: they haven’t apologized. Not once. Not to the people they dismissed, mocked, deplatformed, and trolled into silence. Not to the women they labeled hysterical. Not to the journalists they called fake. Not to the progressives they accused of being soft or subversive.

They haven’t said, "We were wrong."

They haven’t said, "We enabled this."

They haven’t said, "We are sorry."

Instead, they pivot to the next grift: “Oh man, I never liked Trump that much anyway.” Bullshit. You wore the hat. You called it a movement. You were thrilled to be on the winning team when he humiliated your enemies. You were all-in on the bloodsport until the blood was on your shoes.

You don’t get to play the outsider now.

And let’s be blunt—the reason this rot set in so deep is because we let idiots lead the conversation. The problem with stupid people hosting podcasts to talk about important topics is they have no idea when they’re getting completely played by their guests. They’re too slow and too shallow to pick up on the manipulation in real time, and too insecure to admit it afterwards. They lack the humility to challenge anyone who comes in with confidence, and so they nod along while lies get cemented into consensus.

They call it “platforming a variety of views.” No. It’s just uncritical stupidity.

The fact that all these idiots took a bow together after Trump’s second election should be permanently stapled to their headshots. Every comedy flyer. Every podcast thumbnail. Every guest spot. This is what they backed. This is what they celebrated. This is what they amplified.

How Are We Supposed to Feel?

That’s the question for the rest of us. For the people who never bought into Trump’s cult. For the Americans who watched the last decade with a mix of dread, rage, and grim clarity. How do we treat these guys now?

Are we supposed to welcome them with open arms because they finally blinked?

Are we supposed to feel grateful that they’re seeing what we saw years ago?

Fuck that.

It’s not enough to walk back the lies. You have to walk through the fire. You have to face what you helped burn. Until then, you’re just repositioning, not reckoning.

This isn’t about gatekeeping purity. It’s about accountability. If you want to change sides, fine. But admit you were on the wrong side. Admit the harm. Apologize to the people who paid the price while you were cashing Patreon checks.

Until then, we don’t owe you shit.

Where We Go From Here

If the manosphere truly wants to be part of a cultural correction, it starts with truth—not just about Trump, but about themselves. The lies they told. The damage they caused. The people they drove away.

If they want to be taken seriously now, they need to stop performing redemption and start living it. That means boosting different voices, interrogating their past, rejecting the cruelty that got them clicks.

It means understanding that strength isn’t domination. That manhood isn’t volume. That honesty means looking in the mirror and naming what you see.

Otherwise, they’re not walking anything back. They’re just walking in circles.

Final Note

You don't get points for noticing the fire after you spent years fanning the flames. You don't get applause for finally smelling the smoke when the rest of us were already choking on it. If you're serious about change, start with silence. Then speak only if you're ready to say, "I'm sorry."

Because until then, we're not listening. We're watching.