‘Love Is Blind’ Embraces the Manosphere

When Netflix dropped the first season of Love Is Blind in February 2020, it offered a reprieve from the washboard abs that normally seem like a casting requirement for reality TV shows.

The premise—that couples get engaged “sight unseen” after talking to each other through pods, then, following a big reveal, decide if they want to get married—featured just the right amount of mess. Who can forget Jessica allowing her dog to sip wine or an insulted Carlton throwing his fiancee’s engagement ring into a pool? Meanwhile Lauren and Cameron’s unvarnished conversations highlighted the awkwardness that sometimes accompanies interracial dating.

It was a reality show, but it seemed like a format that could actually allow people to fall in love without getting bogged down in superficial distractions and expectations. Maybe.

Now in its 10th season, Love Is Blind is a cornerstone of Netflix’s reality TV cinematic universe. But while each cycle brings us standout women who earnestly buy into the show’s original conceit, it’s getting tougher to find any men to root for.

With the latest US season featuring Chris Fusco, who voluntarily compares himself to Andrew Tate and derides a fellow male cast member for being “submissive,” and Alex Henderson, a Trump-loving crypto bro with an ever-shifting backstory, increasingly the men of Love Is Blind seem to have been plucked straight from the manosphere.

Season after season, the women on the show (and viewers at home) are subjected to men who make shallow, body-shaming comments, struggle with anger and emotional regulation, and sometimes appear uncomfortable with their partner’s success.

While race still comes up, it’s often in a superficial and offensive way. Contestants either find themselves struggling with the fact that their match is a person of color, or dealing with unaddressed internalized racism that downplays their own worth while prioritizing whiteness in a partner—a worthwhile topic that deserves far more nuance or a therapist’s involvement.

Broadly, Love Is Blind seems to be pushing conservative ideals—trad wives, divorce shaming, and big families even when contestants clearly aren’t enthusiastic about the idea of having kids.

Kinetic Content, which produces Love Is Blind, did not respond to a request for comment.

When 28-year-old Emma Betsinger of the current Ohio season discusses the scars on her arms—a result of surgeries due to her birthmarks—with podmate Steven Sunday, a 32-year-old who works in finance, he grills her about how she lost her virginity instead of asking thoughtful questions. Betsinger’s health issues have made her hesitant to have children, but instead of taking her at her word, the men she dates stress that she would make a great mother.

Then there’s fast-talking Henderson, 31, who, despite not having a job besides the day trading he claims to do, expects his fiancée Ashley Carpenter, a 34-year-old claims manager, to pack up and move to either Arizona or Florida, her possible promotion be damned. Carpenter’s dad, a MAGA “patriarch,” barely lets his wife speak during the family’s meeting with Henderson and later touts his own daughter’s attractiveness as being “dyn-o-mite.”

At a time when women are outpacing men in obtaining college degrees and are narrowing the pay gap in some cities, some of the guys in Love Is Blind’s recent seasons also seem to react poorly to having high-achieving partners.

Last year in Denver, Jordan Keltner couldn’t seem to move past his insecurities around fiancée Megan Walerius’ wealth, ultimately leading to their breakup after he said he was too “tired” to have conversations with her after work or keep up with her rich-person hobbies. This season, Fusco, a 33-year-old account executive, gets a tour of his doctor fiancée Jessica Barrett’s multi-bedroom Ohio home and later demeans her for not going to pilates every day. “I don’t care if she’s a neurosurgeon or if she’s a goddamn $100-million trust fund,” he says, while complaining about their lack of sexual chemistry before spending a chunk of time trying to convince already-engaged contestant Bri McNess that she needs a “dominant” man like him.