Looksmaxxing: The dangerous obsession reshaping male adolescent identity

A thirteen-year-old boy scrolls through TikTok and sees a video of a shredded influencer explaining the precise measurements of the ideal jawline. The algorithm learns this interest and feeds him more. Within weeks, he is measuring his own face against an impossible standard, convinced that his social worth depends on millimeters of bone structure he cannot change. This is the world of looksmaxxing—a term born from the fusion of "looks" and "maxxing," meaning to maximize—and it has become one of the most troubling aesthetic obsessions among adolescents and young men today.

The phenomenon emerged from incel forums, those online communities where men believe that physical attractiveness alone determines romantic success and social standing. From there, it spread across TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube, where influencers with millions of followers promise radical physical transformation. They sell a seductive idea: reshape your body, and you reshape your life. The language of these spaces is its own ecosystem. A "mog" is someone physically superior. A "chad" is the masculine ideal—tall, muscular, dominant, hypermasculine. Within this framework, human worth becomes a hierarchy of appearance, and some men are simply born to win while others are condemned to lose.

One influencer known as Clavicular has become the symbol of looksmaxxing taken to its most extreme. He has publicly claimed to have used testosterone since age fourteen. He has described consuming methamphetamine to maintain an extremely low body fat percentage. He has even boasted of deliberately injuring his own face and jaw to achieve a more masculine appearance. Another popular creator, Tom Thebe, builds his entire platform around the perfect jawline, minimal body fat, muscle definition, and male dominance. These are not simple fitness tips. They are blueprints for a permanent project of self-optimization, a body that must never rest, never be satisfied.

Psychologists who study this trend see the connection clearly. Irene Urdiales, a psychologist at Clínica Buchinger-Wilhelmi, explains that looksmaxxing often presents itself as a solution for young men trapped in social exclusion. But when the expectations are unrealistic—and they almost always are—the result is frustration and resentment. The audience consuming this content is getting younger. Adolescents of thirteen or fourteen are now obsessing over jaw thickness and body fat percentage as though these measurements determine their value as human beings. "In adolescence," Urdiales notes, "there is an intense need to fit in, to be liked, to figure out who you are. Many teenagers feel their social worth depends largely on appearance."

The algorithms that power these platforms play a decisive role in the spread. Mercedes Bermejo, another psychologist, explains the mechanism: "If a boy starts to care about his appearance, he will see more and more content about it. It creates a bubble." The result is constant exposure to bodies that are either digitally altered or chemically enhanced—standards that are practically impossible to reach. When a young man begins measuring his personal worth by his appearance, his self-esteem becomes fragile. His sense of value depends on comments, comparisons, external approval. The danger is that his identity gets constructed from the outside in, rather than from genuine internal exploration of who he actually is.

The physical risks are severe. Young men are experimenting with testosterone, anabolic steroids, extreme fasting, stimulants, and exercise routines incompatible with healthy development. María Pérez de Villaamil, a dermocosmetic expert and director of Centro Mem, warns that imitating these routines without professional guidance can disrupt natural processes, trigger adverse reactions, and cause long-term damage. The market for male aesthetic products and treatments now moves millions of euros annually. For decades, the beauty industry focused almost exclusively on women. Now, the male market is booming—fitness, cosmetics, aesthetic procedures all targeting young men.

There is a difference, Pérez de Villaamil emphasizes, between self-care and obsession. The problem emerges when the body becomes the only axis of personal validation. Looksmaxxing does not simply sell workout routines or skincare advice. It sells the promise of social acceptance, romantic success, and superiority over other men. It promises that reshaping your body will let you escape rejection and win recognition. But Bermejo, who has spent decades seeing young people in her office, knows the outcome: "If the answer to who you are depends almost entirely on appearance, your identity becomes limited and dependent on external recognition." In the worst cases, the frustration of failing to meet these standards can lead to anxiety, isolation, or misogynistic ideology.

The specialists who study this trend do not object to self-care. They object to the conversion of the body into a permanent obsession. Healthy self-care comes from respect for oneself. Excessive preoccupation comes from insecurity. All three experts interviewed for this report call for more emotional education and critical thinking from an early age—before the algorithms have already decided who a boy thinks he should be.