I felt it would be beneficial to more deeply delve into the topic of identity politics, particularly those of the Western LGBT+ community. I have touched on this before in my analysis of feminist capitalism and Kilbourne’s Killing Us Softly, but a proper discussion seemed fitting.
Contradictions as the basis of analytical thought
Mao’s On Contradiction is one of his most important works, as it delves deeply into a dialectical view of the world through primary and secondary contradictions.
In it, he suggests that contradictions are necessary for existence. There is life and death; an object can be moving or at rest.
He suggests that the primary contradiction, the “main” conflict between two things, is that which should be focused upon, while secondary contradictions can be sidelined until a later point; of course, a primary contradiction may become secondary, and vice versa.
I have used this framework before, most notably in my discussion of modern, post-Soviet Russia.
Nevertheless, Mao stressed that these secondary contradictions cannot be ignored; they must be dissected, and their causes made known and investigated.
Perception and response to makeup on male bodies
In much of East Asia, male makeup is often framed as “grooming” (仪表, 身だしなみ) or a “professional aesthetic” (美学).
It is seen as an extension of skincare, a tool for presenting a polished, refined, and disciplined public persona. It is a way to further establish social role and appeal.
In the West, male makeup has been, until very recently, framed as “subversion” or “identity/gender expression.”
Wearing makeup is seen as a deliberate break from rigid gender norms, turning the action into a political or personal statement about individuality, artistry, and sexuality.
Historical context in the East
Makeup in East Asia was, across many periods, a marker of elite status and refined culture.
Powders, blush, and darkened eyebrows were used in the Chinese imperial courts, for instance, during the Tang Dynasty, and by the aristocratic classes in Korea (Joseon yangban) and Japan (Heian period).
While not a direct cause, this historical precedent creates a cultural memory where male adornment is not inherently shocking.
In the modern age, idol culture throughout K-Pop, J-Pop, and C-Pop has become the primary driver. Makeup is an essential, non-negotiable component of the idol “package,” part of a highly manufactured image meant to project fantasy, flawlessness, and visual cohesion.
Idols are selling a “boyfriend” image or an androgynous “flower boy” (or kkotminam) ideal that includes clear skin, defined eyes, and soft lips. This is commercially driven and consumed by a massive fan base.
Unlike in the West, the goal is broad attractiveness and visual perfection, not a niche gender statement.
Further, East Asia has a massive, normalized male skincare industry. The logical step past intensive skincare is “base makeup” (such as BB creams or cushion compacts) to help achieve mukhadak (无瑕肌), or “clear porcelain skin.”
This is seen as hygienic and professional—similar to how news anchors and actors in the West use makeup, but on a broader scale. Light makeup is often marketed as “tanning” or “concealer” rather than foundation.
This ties into respect and etiquette; the emphasis is on presenting your best self for the group so that you are respected at work, attractive to potential partners, and do not stand out in a negative way (e.g., with dark circles or blemishes). Light makeup serves as a way to enhance one’s prescribed role, rather than a rebellion against it.
Historical context in the West
In the post-Victorian West, makeup became firmly coded as feminine and frivolous. The mid-20th century saw a rigid binary of makeup for women and plain faces for men. Any man wearing it was immediately seen as breaking a fundamental taboo.
Male makeup has also become a visual marker of queer identity or subcultural membership; this is, in part, a result of disco and glam rock (e.g., David Bowie and Prince) as well as drag queens and the punk/goth scene.
As such, it has become inseparable from challenging heteronormativity. It became a powerful symbol of rebellion and self-discovery in some circles but cemented its “otherness” in broader discourse.
When male makeup began to enter this mainstream discourse (via celebrities like Boy George, Marilyn Manson, and Pete Wentz), it was always as a “statement.”
These depictions were consistently framed through the question, “What are you trying to say?” This framed it as an act of communication about one’s identity (or “breaking gender norms”) rather than a simple, neutral choice.
To note, the modern West had no living, mainstream tradition of male cosmetic use to draw upon; it required reinvention, and it simply happened on the margins, in LGBT+ communities and artistic circles.
Many of these pioneers of modern male makeup in the West were often gay, genderfluid, or otherwise rebellious artists, causing the practice to inherit those same associations. Mainstream culture was unable to understand male makeup divorced from this lens.
Post-industrial Western masculinity, as well, became heavily defined in a binary opposition to the feminine (i.e., “what women do, men do not”). Therefore, adopting a so-called “feminine” practice became seen as a direct challenge to male identity itself (hence the “alpha male gym bro” trend).
The line between skincare and makeup
The global rise of K-Pop and its “soft male” aesthetic, as well as wider Asian beauty trends, have begun to decouple male makeup from sexuality in the West. Still, what is defined as skincare vs makeup varies around the world.
The divide between treatment and camouflage in the West
In the dominant Western beauty paradigm, there is very much a hierarchal split.
Skincare is linked to science, health, and the “authentic” self, framed as medicinal, corrective, and investment-oriented. The intent is often to “fix issues” of the skin, such as acne, aging, or pores, to achieve a “natural” baseline. This is mostly accepted by men due to its focus on the hygienic and the functional.
Makeup, however, is tied to art, deception, and vanity. It is framed as superficial, decorative, and temporary, often seen as “covering” or “painting over” the supposedly “real” self. This notion of “painting your face” associated it immensely with femininity, frivolity, and dishonesty.
This is why Sephora stores are, quite literally, split in half; one side houses clinical, white packaging, including brands like Drunk Elephant and The Ordinary, while the other features colourful, artistic packaging, and brands like Fenty and Huda Beauty. This layout mirrors the cognitive framework used.
Skin as canvas in the East
In East Asia, the line is deliberately blurred, creating a spectrum of enhancement. Rather than a “natural” base, the goal is skin health. Dewy, clear, even, luminous “glass skin” (글라스 스킨) is the primary aesthetic.
As such, products are often designed to both treat and perfect simultaneously. K-beauty and similar industries often feature tinted sunscreens and moisturizers; while Westerners may still consider it “makeup” given the pigment, to others it is simply a sunscreen or moisturizer that simultaneously corrects (and perfects) tone.
BB (blemish/beauty balm) creams, similarly, are not “foundation” but a skincare item with coverage. CC (colour correction) creams are treatments for discolouration, hence the name.
The idea of mul-gwang (물광) or “no-makeup makeup” is often the ideal—a look so natural it appears you are wearing nothing. This requires the very products that blur the line: light tints, cushions, and tone-up creams.
The gendering of products is much weaker, as the goal is a culturally valued standard of youthful, healthy, and refined appearance that applies to all public-facing individuals (not merely celebrities and the LGBT+ as in the West).
Commodity fetishism, reification, and the market
As I stated at the start of this article, I analyze through contradictions. This secondary contradiction seen in the West can be seen as a symptom of the broader issue, or primary contradiction, of capitalism.
After the World Anti-Fascist War (WWII), Western consumer capitalism heavily gendered products to create new markets. Makeup was aggressively promoted to women as a domestic, romantic duty—to “look your best for him”—while skincare for men, where it existed, was often rugged aftershave or medicated soap.
This gender binary was created and enforced by the capitalist bourgeoisie to double its market; by making “masculine” and “feminine” versions of every product, from razors to lotions to makeup, it creates artificial distinctions to sell more commodities.
Additionally, makeup became a key visual signifier of the feminine gender role, making any man who utilized it appear to be rejecting masculinity itself as a concept.
The social relationship (gender performance) is defined as a natural property of the object itself; this is why we do not question the 20th-century marketing that made lipstick “feminine” but simply accept it as such.
The abstract concept of femininity, furthermore, becomes concretely embedded in a physical object (such as a mascara wand). A man using that object is then immediately seen as literally “taking on” femininity, triggering a crisis in the highly gendered social order.
In contrast, the East Asian model, while equally commercialized, commodifies a different ideal, effortless perfection.
When a product is purchased, so are social harmony, self-discipline, and competitive personal presentation within a collectivist frame, not femininity. The gendered charge is diffused, because the pressure to present a seemingly flawless face is (in different ways and with different expectations) applied across all genders.
This is one of capitalism’s biggest successes: creating hierarchies to divide workers and generate profit from their insecurities through the creation and exacerbation of all other forms of oppression (e.g., racism, sexism, homophobia).
The exclusivity of inclusion
I have found that organizations and activists pushing for inclusion miss a key point—while the “circle of inclusion” is expanding, the system itself is a hierarchal one built on the exclusion of many. Imperialist America, for instance, was built upon the graves of the Native Americans and the enslavement of Africans.
I recall, in late 2025, seeing a post on LinkedIn by a gay white American, who expressed deep distress and fear of an increasingly hostile political-cultural landscape.
I distinctly remember needing minutes to process this. This white man finally experienced what members of the LGBT+ community, people of colour, and those who fall into both groups have for decades.1
This reveals the complex, often contradictory realities that simplified narratives of “progress” or “inclusion” routinely obscure.
The hierarchal nature of “inclusion”
It is not unfounded to say that a gay white man has much more sociopolitical power than, say, a bisexual Black woman. This is supported by Kimberlé Crenshaw’s theory of intersectionality.
Under capitalism and systems of white supremacy, inclusion is typically granted on a trickle-down basis to those whose identities most closely align with the existing power structure (that is, white, male, affluent, and gender-conforming).
A white, masculine, wealthy gay man can be assimilated into corporate boardrooms and mainstream politics far more easily than a poor, transgender woman of colour. His “deviation” (sexuality) is singular and can be easily compartmentalized.
The anti-LGBT+ backlash, more broadly, is not a monolithic force applied equally, but one strategically aimed at the most vulnerable to shore up the boundaries of the norm.
This is seen in legislation—first targeting transgender youth (especially in sports and healthcare), the group with least institutional power, then drag performances, often conflated with trans identity and viewed as a public, flamboyant challenge to gender norms.
The classic “Don’t Say Gay” bills aim to silence discussion of sexuality generally, but the effect is felt most strongly by those who lack supportive families or community resources. This is a deliberate political strategy, to attack the weakest point in the line to demoralize and divide the whole.
The same applies to “wins,” where symbolic gestures are made without a tangible, positive affect on those who are “lower” in the pyramid.
A further complication is that simply being a member of the LGBT+ does not equate to being pro-working class. A gay CEO’s primary material interest is in capital accumulation and shareholder value, the same as a straight one’s.
Exploiting workers (regardless of sexuality or gender), union-busting, and lobbying for deregulation directly serve that interest. Their class position fundamentally alienates them from the material interests of the vast majority of LGBT+ people, who are workers.
This exposes the limit of corporate DEI frameworks and pinkwashing, a topic I have discussed before:
A rainbow flag on a bank branch does not tangibly affect the loans strangling those same marginalized communities that same bank claims to uplift.
Late-stage liberalism merely mistakes inclusion for justice, and visibility is traded for pacification. A movement that began as defiance against system erasure, prizing self-identity and expression, has become capitalist and politicized.
Corporations adjust this “progressive” messaging only where politically safe and profitable, rather than out of ideological commitment.
In fact, this can serve as a smokescreen; a gay CEO’s identity can be used to inoculate the company from critique of its labour practices (in essence, the same argument used by racists who “have Black friends”).
This is part of a wider historical pattern where marginalized groups, in fighting for legal equality and social acceptance, have those very movements co-opted by the most privileged members, who then secure a place within the existing hierarchy.
The goal shifts from liberation for all (to dismantle the existing, oppressive hierarchy) to assimilation for some (to be included in this hierarchy), creating the figure of the “respectable” LGBT+ who is acceptable because they don’t challenge other power structures (e.g., capitalism, patriarchy, racism).
The archetype of the “AMAB white enby liberal”
Many often joke about AMAB white non-binary liberals, who often solely focus on the minutiae of any given issue. This includes, most notably, an intense, uneven focus on evolving terminology: homeless vs unhoused, disabled vs differently abled, etc.
While language shapes reality and respect is important, this commonly leads to performative substitution for tackling root causes (e.g., the financialization of housing, the defunding of social services, and lack of disability infrastructure).
It also operates within a liberal “politics of recognition” framework, seeking to change how we talk about an oppressed group without a concurrent, robust plan to change the material conditions that create that oppression, neglecting the base entirely (a politics of the superstructure).
This discourse often flourishes in universities, online spaces, and specific subcultures, using a specialized lexicon that can be alienating and inaccessible to the very working-class and marginalized people it seeks to champion and create class and cultural barriers within the left.
Because it can appear to prioritize symbolic correctness over tangible solidarity (e.g., lengthy online threads on terminology while mutual aid groups are organizing eviction defenses), it becomes an easy target for satire. The joke is that it’s activism as a form of social capital and identity performance for a privileged few (or “performative activism”).
The political right has masterfully seized upon this archetype to create a caricature, inflating this specific tendency to the totality of left-wing or social justice politics and dismissing all critiques of systemic injustice (e.g., racism, transphobia, ableism) as “wokeness.”
By presenting this “wokeness” as the concern of out-of-touch elites, the right is able to drive a wedge between the working class and progressive politics, framing the left as “caring more about pronouns” than about jobs, wages, and community decline (despite not having a solution for these issues themselves).
This “performative wokeness” has been criticized extensively by Black, Indigenous, and disability activists, as well as materialist and Marxist feminists as a frustrating “NGO-ization” or “professionalization” of resistance, where activism becomes a career track with its own jargon, divorced entirely from mass mobilization and rooted in non-profit industrial complexes that are themselves dependent on capitalist funding.
The goal of activism is to promote change. Does saying “unhoused” tangibly help in building a stronger movement to house people? If not, it is a poor tactic and, frankly, a waste of time.
The shock of white liberals after ICE’s killing of Renée Good in Minnesota is an adjacent example, as the killing of Keith Porter was completely ignored, but I digress.
too long, too timid but the discussion about woke NGOs disarming the working class to the point of pushing them in the arms of fascism is long overdue, And some hard self-reflexion on the anti-capitalist who were all to happy to succumb to the lure of whatever-fobia grants is also in order