How Incel Research Looks to a Former Incel

The interviewee identifies as a former incel who participated in incel communities from the late 1990s until the mid-2010s. The interviewee offers a lived perspective on how these communities evolved and how that history compares with what has been said and researched about them.

Theme 1: Incels have history

The interviewee explained that academic research often lacks perspective on how incel communities have evolved. Present-day incel forums are commonly treated as representative of the entire history of incels, overlooking earlier, less toxic spaces that have since died off while the extreme ones gained attention. 

To illustrate this, the interviewee discussed two contrasting strands of early 2000s incel spaces: one being Love-Shy.com, and the other being IncelSupport, which originated from Alana’s original Involuntary Celibacy Project and later became a standalone forum.  IncelSupport was inclusive, welcoming not only men, but also women, non-virgins, and individuals in sexless marriages. IncelSupport was also strictly moderated; toxic and misogynistic discussions were actively discouraged. In contrast, Love-Shy.com became a haven for those banned from IncelSupport, which was hostile towards openly misogynistic discussions. 

The interviewee also highlighted the lesser-known history of pre-forum history of incel-related spaces, such as Yahoo Groups that were active around 2003. These groups were inclusive of women, transgendered, bisexual, and homosexual individuals, and were explicitly against promoting sexual enhancement or erotic materials.  

“From the late 1990s to 2014-ish that’s you know, over 15 years of how it was good. And so there were alternatives […] And yet for some researchers nowadays, they just seem to take what they see nowadays as the norm. And that’s not correct.”

These earlier communities suggest that incel spaces were not always extreme, and that they included women, non-virgins, and bi-, trans-, and homosexual individuals– groups often excluded from what we now recognize as today’s incel forums. This part of history is often overlooked in research, even though these alternative spaces did exist and incel experiences were much more diverse. It also challenges the idea that today’s incel extremism is predetermined by echo chambers and online radicalization, showing instead, that it’s been actively created and sustained through particular user choices.

“Nobody knows what it used to be. It’s ironic in that, the good ones don’t get the drama and get lost to history. And it’s all the extreme ones that kind of got the attention. Then it got co-opted and hijacked.”

Theme 2: Incel extremism is a choice

What matters about this history is the role of choice. The 15-year history of incel community provides important context for understanding how some users chose extreme spaces over non-extreme alternatives that were available to them. The interviewee emphasized that there are choices involved in selecting the behavioural norms and language they adopt: 

“If you want to talk about women, there might be a forum where you just talk about women and then maybe some of the more lax forums might say them as ‘females.’ Then there are others using words like ‘bitches’ and ‘cunts’ and ‘holes’ – it is a choice in how you want to talk about it.” 

A related example raised during the interview was the term “suifuel” –an incel term that combines “suicide” and “fuel” and frames suicidal ideation as content to consume or bond over. While the interviewee acknowledged that suicidal ideation may be valid (“fair enough”) they contrasted the choice involved in seeking help through crisis support, versus coping via misogynistic extremism:

“You could have somebody who is depressed and suicidal, and that in and of itself is, fair enough. But then there’s a huge difference between going to a suicide help forum or talking to a crisis hotline. So yes, it could be shitposting, but honestly, I just see it as subterfuge […] they have this grain of truth and insecurity and what they’re doing is feeding that.”

In discussing shitposting, the interviewee emphasized that even behaviour that may be seen as unserious, or became desensitized still involves a choice:  

“[…] even though they could be in essence shitposting, it’s still a posting, right? And so they’re making an active choice to do that and engage in it. And to surround themselves with this kind of rhetoric. Even though they know it’s harmful.” 

This, they argued, contributes to a culture of plausible deniability, where harmful posts can be brushed off as jokes.

“This is online, and are online posts, but at the same time these are real people making these posts. It’s like, just because somebody might say, oh it’s just a joke or something. Oh, I’m not meaning it. These are made by the same people who might argue that a joke is funny because there’s some inherent truth to it.”  

Other than the choice involved in selecting toxic language and spaces to engage in, the interviewee emphasized that users also make decisions about how their communities are regulated. The interviewee illustrated this through IncelSupport’s use of the “Seven Deadly Sins of the Involuntary Celibacy” – apathy, excuses, overanalysis, naivete, fear, rage, and shame – which served as a basis for peer-driven self-moderation against indications of toxic discussions. In contrast, LoveShy.com did not have such regulations, and instead tolerated misogyny and aligned more closely with the broader manosphere’s hostility toward women. 

“[…] what happened was the alternative [LoveShy] that did not use the ‘Seven Deadly Sins of the Involuntary Celibacy’ and was not being introspective –what happens when you don’t have the moderating aspect but then there’s no research on it. They [researchers] don’t seem to recognize that there has ever been an alternative because the knowledge of history is basically non-existent.”

Incel extremism, then, is not simply a linear, nor inevitable outcome of influences such as echo chamber effects or mental health vulnerabilities; it emerges through a series of deliberate choices, within an environment where alternative, non-extreme paths also exist. Without adequately accounting for this element of choice, research risks remaining descriptive and misrepresenting the dynamics by which some users actively choose, and help sustain extremist norms. 

Theme 3: Taking incel narratives at face value

When asked where incel research may be misleading, the interviewee emphasized that incel narratives are often taken at face value. While these self-descriptions can offer insight, they are also shaped by individuals grappling with personal issues and the view that they have been victimized. Without being critical, research risks allowing incels to define themselves on their own terms, even when those terms obscure or distort harmful ideologies. For instance, we discussed IncelWiki, a site that is curated by incels and reflects how incels want to be seen: “Not only are you looking up that word, you’re looking [at] how incels themselves are defining that word.” 

The interviewee explained how this shapes even seemingly neutral terms. “Lifefuel” for example, is self-described on IncelWiki as a positive term meant to restore faith in humanity; but in practice, it is used with violent content: 

“Lifefuel, is self-described as, [quoting IncelWiki page for “lifefuel”] a term used in the incelosphere to indicate positive things, making the person regain their faith in humanity. But as of September 2022, it is used with violent topics like, a guy shooting his ex in the head which is responded to by jfl. […] You see that the way lifefuel is used, has been mixed, which is different from the positively defined [IncelWiki page].”

This example illustrates a gap between how incel terms are defined, and how they are actually used. The interviewee argued that researchers must go beyond surface-level definitions and analyze its usage in context, especially as incel terms often evolve to obscure or rebrand harmful content. The problem, the interviewee noted, is that when researchers accept these narratives at face value, they risk inadvertently normalizing them and reinforcing incel self-perceptions. Without engaging critically, researcher risks overemphasizing that incels feel bad about their situations, without accounting for how those feelings are expressed and weaponized.  

“And to me, it’s just the way they try to control the narrative with researchers who do not seem to know enough background to really have a firm way of critiquing and analyzing, if they are being lied to or misled.”

Ultimately, the problem is not just about language or terminology. When incel self-narratives are taken at face value, researchers risk portraying incels in extremist spaces primarily as victims caught in echo chambers, rather than as individuals making choices to engage in and promote extremism. This mirrors the broader gap in the field where there is limited attention to historical alternatives that were available, and a failure to critically account for the role of user agency in shaping the norms and dynamics of these communities.  

“It just seems to be that, [research treats as though] incels are all alike. And then honestly, a lot of it is inadvertently normalizing it.” 

Theme 4: Descriptives won’t solve anything

The interviewee argued that research does little to offer solutions; nothing is likely to change if research facilitates only surface-level descriptives: “Because to me, it [research] is just descriptive, [which] doesn’t really solve anything other than saying that incels feel bad and are not doing great.” 

What is needed instead, the interviewee suggested, is research that focuses on those who experienced similar insecurities and struggles but chose not to engage in toxic spaces. These examples could inform practical alternatives to prevent others from radicalization. 

“You could have a teenager in school learn about Andrew Tate and use his talking points, not realizing that this guy’s like involved in serious crimes. You can’t just say, don’t listen to this stuff. You also have to provide an alternative. And that alternative doesn’t seem to exist in academic research.” 

The lack of research on alternatives is especially concerning in the context of preventing online radicalization among youth. The interviewee emphasized the need for proactive educational strategies that go beyond sex education to include emotional and social learning. These forms of education can help young people to navigate relationships and critically engage with the narratives they encounter online, earlier on. 

“Not just sex education, but also like, you know the social education aspect about, consent and social interaction aspect earlier on before you experience these issues.” 

Implications

Theoretical frameworks like the Online Disinhibition Effect suggest that online features (e.g., anonymity, perceived weaker deterrence) foster toxic behaviour. However, treating extremism as an outcome of online environments does not account for users who consciously chose to participate in, or build, alternative spaces that actively discouraged these toxic interactions. IncelSupport and LoveShy.com shared similar platform features, yet developed fundamentally different cultures- one that was inclusive and introspective, the other that was more hostile and exclusionary. How these spaces evolved and diverged shows that user agency and community-driven norms, not just technological affordances, matter in shaping what behaviours are tolerated and reinforced. 

The key themes identified in this study echo the theoretical and empirical gaps in understanding why some individuals with similar grievances do not radicalize and commit violence. As McCauley and Moskalenko and Moghaddam note, not everyone exposed to the same marginalization experiences and grievances adopt extremist views, and most who do still do not act violently. Yet, research has often focused on those who did commit terrorist violence and does not compare those who resorted to violence versus those who did not. This limitation is also seen in research on disengagement, which tends to focus on successful exit cases, without accounting for those who remain radicalized or struggle to disengage. As a result, and similar to what has been echoed by our interviewee, existing research risks drawing conclusions based on a selective dependent variable among those who chose and remain engaged in extremist spaces.

Humanizing incel experiences without excusing misogynistic extremism is a common challenge in incel research. While it is important to understand the mental health challenges, social stigma, and struggles with masculinity that many incels face, focusing solely on those who gravitate toward toxic spaces risks overlooking the bigger picture. There is a history of incel spaces that resisted misogyny and violence, through deliberate moderation and user choices; ignoring this history risks treating all incel participation as uniform, and keeps research at a descriptive level without considering tangible, viable alternatives. To meaningfully advance the field, future research must more critically investigate why some individuals, despite experiencing similar struggles, choose not to engage in extremism.