The Internet Is Broken For Women

Every time I check the news lately, I go to bed thinking, “It cannot possibly get any worse tomorrow”. Yet, somehow, it does. We’re past the point where blocking trolls or writing “stricter” community guidelines is going to fix anything – these are band-aid solutions for a systemic problem, a broken arm, a bleeding artery.

What we actually need is a complete reimagining of how online spaces work. Not just tweaks and updates, but deep, fundamental change. Because the internet isn’t a reflection of our reality anymore – it is its very own reality where culture, power and gender collide. Also let’s be honest: women are more often than not caught in the crossfire.

A fundamental challenge lies in envisioning online spaces that can serve as genuine infrastructures for resistance, collaboration and empowerment (I hate this word, too, but when used correctly it’s useful). The redesign of these spaces must account for their deeply political nature, as we slowly start to open our eyes to what these platforms really are. Beyond entertainment or community building, digital platforms are ecosystems where power is negotiated, shaped by their algorithms, policies and the intentions of their creators.

We can’t keep playing whack-a-mole with online harassment and calling it a day. Blocking trolls and reporting hate speech helps, but we need to think bigger. Much bigger.

Legacy Russell’s Glitch Feminism offers a brilliant idea: what if we treated the internet’s “glitches”– those moments when things don’t work as intended – as opportunities? It’s like finding a secret passage in a video game. Instead of just accepting how these platforms work, we could use their quirks and flaws to create something radically different for users.

What if social media platforms were actually designed with women’s experiences at the centre of them?

Not as an afterthought, not as a PR crisis response, but as their true, fundamental architecture? Instead of algorithms that chase engagement at any cost (and we all know where that leads, straight to the most inflammatory, polarising content), we could have systems that prioritise genuine connection and collective wellbeing.

Cyberfeminism takes this even further, showing us how technology can help dismantle patriarchal structures instead of reinforcing them. But for this to happen, we need to move beyond seeing online spaces as mere tools for our entertainment. They need to become infrastructures for collective liberation (I know how ambitious that sounds, but haven’t we settled for less for long enough?).

The changes we need are massive and they’re honestly pretty intimidating, but they’re also within our power to make. We’ve seen this time and time again: every time women come together online to share resources, warn each other about dangers or build new communities, we’re already practicing this kind of radical reimagining. We’re already showing the potential of these spaces.

So here’s the ugly/not-so-ugly truth: online spaces are whatever we make of them. Right now, they’re a mess of contradictions: both liberating and oppressive, empowering and exhausting. But they’re also malleable. Every time we choose what to share, what to support and what to challenge, we’re shaping these spaces – or at least our little corners of these spaces. (Some of my personal favourites are r/WitchesVsPatriarchy and r/TwoXChromosomes for a good slap of reality, a free therapy session and/or a good laugh.)

Look at what happened with the deinfluencing trend, which started as a pushback against overconsumption and evolved into a powerful critique of how social media monetises women's insecurities. Also look at how the girl dinner trend became a springboard for conversations about diet culture and food-shaming. Even women mobilising on Discord and Reddit to document and track the wave of tech layoffs disproportionately affecting female employees. These are moments of collective power-building through digital platforms because the users recognised their role within them and took matters into their own hands. And, yes, while Trump's election and the rise of digital misogyny are deeply concerning, they’ve also sparked new forms of resistance and solidarity.

The future of online spaces won’t be decided by tech bros in Silicon Valley or politicians who care more about the money they can make, than the people they govern. Instead, these spaces will be shaped by how well we use them, what we demand from them and, most importantly, how we support each other within them. Maybe I’m just a girl naive enough to believe we still hold some power over what we consume, what we create and how we navigate the tension between them. But I hope not.

So, just to close off, I have a challenge for you:

Next time you’re scrolling through your feed and see something that makes you mad or sad or want to tear your hair out and scream at the top of your lungs for everyone to go f*%k themselves. Don’t just roll your eyes and scroll on. Engage. Resist. Create. Because these spaces are ours to reshape. And, hey, if all else fails, we can always try turning the internet off and on again. Sometimes the oldest tricks work best.

[This is an edited extract from Maria Rubio’s Substack, Madversaria, which explores culture and society through a female gaze.]

This SEED initially prompted a passionate discussion in our Contributors Forum, so we wanted to include some extra context:

Malena Roche, a strategy and insights consultant based in Glasgow, says:

Is the internet broken for women? Yes and no. It’s not any more or less broken than the world is. The world is hostile towards women and the internet is a reflection of the world, so why would it be any different? I don’t know if/how we can fix it, but I believe the corners of the internet that are less mainstream are the friendliest ones; Bluesky is significantly less toxic than X; the federated internet offers spaces like Mastodon, which are far more positive than mainstream social media. You can find a subreddit community for literally anything/anyone, and some can be very supportive spaces for women. Just like in the real world, you would not want to exist in a bubble, but you would also not be hanging out constantly somewhere where you feel uncomfortable. So I guess it’s up to us to find a balance where we allow ourselves to exist and have an identity URL, in a way that it doesn’t affect our mental health IRL.

Hannah Marcus, a researcher and strategist working at the intersection of culture, technology and health, says:

I’m not usually one to answer questions about women by talking about men, but I’ve been recently looking into how the internet is broken for men, particularly within the manosphere and figures like Andrew Tate. It highlights an important point. Yes, the internet is a unique space with its own rules, but it also replicates existing patriarchal power structures. When the internet first emerged, it promised to democratise identity and knowledge, but with the rise of the manosphere and the trad wife movement, we’re seeing a backlash against that.

Masculinity is key here because one of its ironies is that it claims to be inherent and rejects the idea that it’s a performance, while femininity, on the other hand, is often seen as performative. But the internet itself is inherently performative – you’re putting something out there to represent yourself, in a space where some rules mirror the “real world,” and some don’t, constantly shifting (think filters, beauty standards). In this way, the internet becomes yet another arena where women are expected to perform – whether it’s in terms of beauty, care or motherhood – with ever-changing standards, possibly in response to movements like #MeToo.

I also think we need to distinguish between the internet and social media – social media, in particular, seems far more broken than the internet as a whole. But that’s a whole other discussion.

Valentina Palange, a project manager and strategist with a background in the music industry, says:

I don’t see the internet as broken, but rather as a reflection of how broken the world is. For many outside the patriarchal, white supremacist system, the internet has become a space for absurdity and satire – a way to survive through humour and memes (for example, the #WomenInMaleFields trend in late 2024). My hope is for a societal shift: better access to STEM education for women, more diversity in tech and a world built on empathy and curiosity.

The harm of algorithms, for example, lies not in their existence but in how they’re designed. To create a more mature, culturally open society free from platform capitalism, algorithms shouldn’t simply feed us more of the same content. This subtle conditioning leads to political polarisation and a flattening of culture, with female or gender-diverse artists often sidelined on streaming platforms.

In an ideal future, algorithms could have a more humanitarian purpose, helping us expand our minds and engage with differing opinions respectfully. But instead, we have leaders like Mark Zuckerberg pushing for more “masculine energy” in technology. Relying on tech to solve our problems won’t create a healthier society. We need to consciously build technologies that support a more equitable future, alongside educational initiatives.

Catalina Biemans, a strategist working at the intersection of nature, culture and design, says:

I can’t say I relate 100%. I’ve read a lot about these misogynistic trends cropping up, but I haven’t been sucked into these algorithms myself yet. Maybe I’ve trained my algorithm well, or maybe it’s something else… I recently came across an article discussing how the internet is especially tough for straight women. As a queer woman, I can say I’ve found myself so absorbed in my little queer online bubble that I haven’t been exposed to the same level of online misogyny as some of my straight peers. But I’ve definitely noticed that my sister, for example, is constantly bombarded with content about “a woman’s place in society”.