Cringe Culture and the Social Punishment of Being Real
A popular thing I have heard from the youngin’s is to say that something is “cringe.”
(Sorry to my younger readers, I was born in the 1900s.)
What we call “cringe” is often someone showing joy, awkwardness, or realness that threatens performative norms. It is enjoying something that is unpopular or being openly bad at something new. It’s earnestness without irony. Joy without detachment.
But cringe culture isn’t just about laughing at awkwardness, it’s a system of social control. It punishes authenticity and reinforces conformity. Sometimes this manifests in low-stakes ways (mocking someone for posting awkward selfies) and sometimes it manifests in high-stakes ways (silencing dissent against injustice).
Cringe Culture = Weaponized Shame
Shame is about feeling humiliation, often caused by believing you have done something wrong or your behavior is undesirable. But it can also be a weapon, flung at those who don’t conform to societal or group norms.
We see this when the very thing a person is doing becomes the insult thrown at them:
A smart kid is mocked as a “poindexter.”
A curious learner becomes a “know-it-all.”
A woman with sexual agency is called a “slut.”
A Black woman wearing her natural hair is labeled “unprofessional.”
Even in the workplace someone’s expertise can be used against them depending on the context, often as a way to silence their dissent.
For example, I worked as a manager of product management for four years. My formal degrees and certifications are in fine art, digital design, user experience design, and front-end development. But through my studies, I also took courses on product and project management to round out my understanding of how all of these disciplines worked together.
When there was disagreement between me and another product manager, they would often say I had a “UX perspective” rather than a “product perspective,” as a way to dismiss my product approach as less valid. They were weaponizing my experience to shame me into compliance.
Cringe Is Inconsistent (and That’s the Point)
What’s even more concerning is that “cringe” isn’t consistent. One moment something is loved, and the next, it’s mocked, just because the “wrong” people love it too sincerely.
This is part of a broader pattern: joy, when held too earnestly by people outside the dominant culture, becomes embarrassing.
Take anti-intellectualism. As more women and people of color, especially Black women, enter higher education, the societal value placed on a college degree has started to shift. Where once higher ed was the ticket to success, now there’s a growing chorus insisting college is a scam, or that you can just teach yourself the same skills on YouTube.
Or consider teenage girls. Anything they throw themselves into, Taylor Swift, friendship bracelets, boy bands, is often dismissed as shallow or “cringe.” Meanwhile, grown men break TVs during the Super Bowl and no one blinks.
Cringe culture is not about the thing itself. It’s about who is allowed to express joy or take up space, and who isn’t.
Cringe culture is a way to shame people that are not conforming in the ways society deems universally acceptable.
Policing Authenticity
Cringe culture is about policing authenticity.
It often requires the person doing the mocking to feel superior. They believe their way of being is more acceptable, more rational, more correct.
But the reality is, making fun of someone’s vulnerability or sincerity is almost always rooted in insecurity.
If you were truly secure in yourself, you wouldn’t feel the need to shame others for being themselves.
The need to police others, their likes, dislikes, clothing, sexuality, appearance, hobbies, is not about decency or morality. It’s about control.
A clear example? The hate and backlash being directed at the trans community.
There is no credible data suggesting trans people pose a threat to children in schools or women in bathrooms. In fact, the opposite is true: it is the lack of gender-affirming care and the prevalence of transphobic rhetoric that increases harm to trans youth and adults alike.
Meanwhile, the actual threats to women and children, domestic violence, poverty, reproductive access, gun violence, go largely unaddressed.
Because this isn’t about protection.
It’s about punishing people for stepping out of their assigned box.
It’s about policing authenticity.
Authenticity Makes People Uncomfortable (Because It’s a Threat)
Authenticity often elicits a shame response in those who suppress themselves.
Think about it. People who’ve built their lives around suppressing their queerness, creativity, softness, or vulnerability are often the first to mock or attack those who express it freely.
It’s like student loan forgiveness. People say, “Well I had to suffer, so you should too.”
It’s not about justice. It’s about resentment.
That same resentment fuels cringe culture.
If I have to suffer to fit in, you don’t get to be free.
Looking back at the example from my earlier article, I felt an aversion to the new woman in our group because she was so unapologetically herself, and I wasn’t.
She wasn’t doing anything wrong. But her presence reminded me of everything I’d been taught to suppress.
But not everyone has those moments of self-realization.
It’s far easier to judge and shame others than to face your own inner demons.
And that shame, the one turned outward, is then weaponized by systems of power. Because a society that depends on hierarchy, control, and consumerism can’t afford too many people being truly free.
Authenticity is a threat.
The more of us who stop performing, the more those systems start to shake.
Cringe vs. Conformity: When Realness Becomes Dangerous
Cringe isn’t always harmless. Sometimes, realness becomes dangerous.
When you speak out against injustice.
When you name the harm in a workplace or a relationship.
When you refuse to perform anymore.
And suddenly, you’re “too intense.” “Too emotional.” “Not a team player.”
Cringe culture isn’t just a meme. It’s a muzzle.
The Internet Poured Gasoline on It
The internet didn’t invent cringe culture, but it did make it a spectacle.
Anonymity means you can mock someone without ever seeing the look on their face.
Algorithms reward outrage.
Disinformation thrives.
Mockery travels faster than nuance.
Add confirmation bias and a lack of accountability, and you’ve got a machine that’s optimized to reward performative hate and punish sincerity.
The cost? Vulnerability starts to feel dangerous.
And authenticity starts to look… foolish.
But that’s exactly why we need more of it.
Reflective Prompts
When have I judged someone for being "cringe"? What did it bring up in me?
When have I silenced myself because I feared being seen as awkward, too much, or wrong?
What would I do or say if I knew nobody would mock or punish me for it?
Where do I still water myself down to avoid being misunderstood?