“The glow is holding strong”

Let’s talk about beauty: how beautiful do you think you are?

Depends on the day. I quite like myself, but not every time I look in the mirror. Too much self-inspection can only lead to finding flaws. These days, I’m relaxed about it. I’m 42 now, and I can deal with waking up with swollen eyes from my allergies. I feel at ease with myself.

As a journalist, one of your main topics is deconstructing gender roles. Your message: the myth of men as the eternally strong sex finally has to end. But before we get into that – when do you find men beautiful?

When they’re not constantly adjusting their masculinity.

What do you mean by that?

When I get the sense that the person sitting across from me is performing a role – like an actor reciting lines and following a director’s idea of how to appear masculine. Legs spread wide, calling other men “bro,” the aggressive backslaps. So many men are hyper-aware of not seeming tender – because that would immediately be read as feminine. The idea of the “strong sex” is still very much alive and is a direct result of patriarchal ideals of masculinity. To me, the opposite is beautiful: when men are unforced, natural, unexpected, spontaneous. When they’re at peace with themselves. The goal should be to embody the full emotional range we have as humans. Nothing against courage or biceps, but restraint, sensitivity and thoughtfulness are just as important.

Terms like “manosphere” or “men’s rights movement” describe reactionary counter-movements to everything you’ve been advocating for years. Some men feel their masculinity is under threat and are now pushing back. Can you relate to any of that?

In discussions about gender equality or new masculinities, a lot of buzzwords get tossed around – from the reactionary side as well as the so-called woke side, which often talks about “toxic masculinity.” I’m not a fan of labels like that. I prefer to give things specific names – what’s actually working and what’s clearly going wrong. All I ever really say is this: we all have the freedom to choose how we want to behave, regardless of how masculine or feminine that might seem. Masculinity doesn’t belong to men, and femininity doesn’t belong to women.

Has the way you communicate your topics changed?

Definitely. That’s also one of the reasons I stopped doing my podcast “Zart Bleiben” – even though it was successful. I had conversations with a range of people about their life paths and non-traditional careers, like Herbert Grönemeyer and Sibylle Berg. But I didn’t want to build a career on that topic. Suddenly, I was the activist, the poster boy for new masculinity. I thought: what’s next – selling a cream labelled “new masculinity” that you rub on your face? No thanks. I’m out.

But isn’t that exactly what you were doing – addressing the topic in a podcast?

Sure, but I began to feel like I was creating content just for my own bubble, and I think that’s dangerous. It gives you a distorted view of reality. That’s why I now write for different publications with very different audiences. I also didn’t want to be at the centre of my stories all the time. It became too self-referential – especially on social media.

Your podcast was also a reminder to men that they, too, were “born tender” – and an invitation to free themselves from unrealistic male ideals. What are some positive and realistic ideals we can pass on to our sons?

At some point, as a boy, you realise there are rules you’re expected to follow – how to be, and what makes you stand out in a bad way. That doesn’t just start at home, but in kindergarten, on the playground, on social media, in movies and TV. I think parents need to pay close attention: who are their kids, really? What talents do they have – and how can those be nurtured instead of repressed by rigid norms? It’s about saying, Hey, maybe you’ve noticed you’re a little different from some of the other kids. You’re not into football or competition – you’d rather do another sport. That’s totally fine. Go for it.

You once said: “Capitalism sells us gender roles. Women are expected to shave pretty much every part of their body. But shaving is also sold as something deeply masculine.” What do you mean by that?

That shaving is marketed as this ultra-masculine ritual – even though women are the ones who are actually expected to shave far more. Society demands that women be hairless beings. In ads, they shave legs that are already smooth. No visible hair, ever. And men? They slap on aftershave and pose with a look that says, “I’m ready to attack.”

Sometimes we see you clean-shaven, sometimes with a beard. What determines the look?

It depends on my mood. I enjoy switching it up. I celebrate that freedom now – I mean, I’ve got red hair. I used to shave all the time and dye it, because being gay and also looking like Pumuckl with a Barbarossa beard? That was a nightmare. Today, I love my ginger hair.

What does good skincare look like for you?

Skincare is a way for me to connect with myself. I think it’s quite emancipatory for a man to learn how to take care of himself and to stop seeing the body as just a machine that runs – with maintenance outsourced to women. For my skin, a cleansing oil in the evening works really well. I use a night cream and eye cream. In the morning, I keep it simple – no aggressive scrubbing. A day cream and SPF is enough. The glow is holding strong.

This interview was first published in the printed edition of 30 Grad in autumn 2025.