The Problem With Incels

Imagine a fantasy world where everyone is born with a spark of magical power. Within the general population there exists an exceptional group with an affinity for magic; they quickly gain mastery, learning to cast spells. They cast spells that can dictate whether kingdoms rise or fall, or whether people live or die. One might expect these workings to be displays of mass physical destruction, but the greatest spells in a wizard’s arsenal are those of subtlety. Those who cast the most subtle spells often also command the most devastating.

Consider a simple urban scene: you walk down a city street and catch a whiff of something delicious. The aroma leads you around the corner to the source—a pizzeria. The proprietor likely intended this exact scenario. He orchestrated the vents so the scent of the kitchen spills onto the pavement, hoping to snag even one more customer a day. This is a subtle strategy; it is not the core of the business, but it is the extra effort—the magical flourish—performed once the foundational work is complete.

This layer of the world is invisible to some. In our current social landscape, we see this in the figure of the incel, or the chronically socially unaware. These are individuals woefully incapable of utilizing, or even perceiving, subtlety. To everyone around them, someone blind to subtlety is immediately recognized as lesser and subsequently ignored. On an evolutionary level, such a deficiency is a staggering disadvantage. This is a person who likely cannot even take care of himself, his continued existence being sustained by the graces of our technologically advanced modern society.

In the fantasy framework, these individuals are akin to bandits lacking any magical ability. They stand no chance against a wizard. They often express a bitter disdain for magic while simultaneously wishing they could compete at the wizard’s level. They think the wizard’s nature is magical when in reality magic is a highly intentional expression of inner discipline and drive.

There is no solution to the incel problem, nor should there be. On a fundamental level, these are people who reject life for what it is. They refuse to play the game, and thus, the game moves on without them.

The more captivating a woman is, the more she mirrors the presence of a powerful wizard. If you possess no magic of your own—no subtlety, no awareness—you are effectively invisible to her. But magic can be learned. The process is internal. It asks: Can you regulate your own impulses, overcoming impatience and fear? Can you cultivate discipline, planning, and consistency? The moment you learn to strategize your behavior so that small, subtle actions yield large rewards is the moment you become attractive.