A few weeks ago, Liz Wheeler was in the spotlight at X. post A list of men's least attractive hobbies from a woman's perspective.
Although Wheeler (and the community note) clarified that the statistics presented were satirical, they still generated a fair amount of controversy: Topping the fictional “most hated” hobbies list was video games.
What if regularly playing video games for six hours straight was bad not because it looked bad, but because it was actually unhealthy?
As expected, a fierce battle ensued between the sexes. The men responded:
“Women like you think your company is more interesting and valuable than a good video game. That's a mistake.”
“Women really hate it when their men are happy doing things that aren't about them.”
“Well, we're not just going to sit and watch Titanic for the tenth time.”
On the one hand, it's natural to get defensive if you feel that something you personally enjoy or take pride in is being generalized and belittled — this is the nature of stereotyping, and no one can stand it anymore — but on the other hand, is that reaction proportionate to the discomfort of simply expressing a preference?
The internet has become a battlefield of gender infighting, and the constant bickering only pushes us into our corners. We all want to generalize, but we don't want to be generalized. Meme wars offend this sensibility. It's not for the faint of heart.
But listen: stereotypes exist for a reason. What if playing video games for six hours straight on a regular basis was bad not because it's unattractive, but because it's actually unhealthy? In other words, what if it's unattractive for women because it's bad for men, rather than bad for men because it's unattractive for women?
There is growing evidence to suggest that gaming can be as addictive as gambling and can lead to withdrawal from and loss of interest in social life, and problems at school and work.
According to a recent study, Internet gaming disorder:
Current prevalence estimates of IGD vary widely (2-15%). … Low response rates (surveys reduce time spent gaming) and under-reporting (criteria for IGD conceal the extent of Internet gaming) likely lead to underestimates of prevalence. However, even conservative estimates suggest that 318 million people in the United States play digital games, with at least 5 million (possibly more) meeting criteria for IGD and experiencing personal, social, and academic difficulties.
Maybe women's intuition isn't as shallow as some make it out to be. As research suggests, hardcore gaming may be indicative of deeper issues that impede long-term social success in life. It's too easy to dismiss Wheeler and the women who agree with her as annoying busybodies who just don't like the idea of men “having fun.” And maybe some of them are. But deep down, some of these men may just not like the way they look. Accountability is a bitter pill to swallow. It's easier to find distraction.
That said, on a certain level, does it really matter if a guy is a gamer or not, unless he becomes addicted to games or anti-social about them? If a gamer finds a woman and falls madly in love, is he still “unattractive”? Surely not to a lover. And conversely, if you're a woman who doesn't find games attractive, don't date a gamer. That's it, really. Who cares?
As one commenter put it, “Attractiveness is subjective and one's hobbies do not determine one's value or attractiveness. It's a crazy idea, but why not allow people to enjoy what they love without devaluing it based on their personal preferences for entertainment?” Well said.
