Ever since the election, I’ve had this feeling — maybe you’ve had it, too. A sense that something fundamental about our politics has changed. We’ve all heard the cable news explanations for Trump’s victory — economic anxiety, outrage about border policy. But for me, there’s something else in the air, something those tired buzzwords don’t quite capture. Something that might explain why 55% of young men voted for Trump, a 14-point swing from 2020, according to one post-election survey. And for a while now, I’ve been wondering if that something is right under my nose.
There’s a group based here in Phoenix that you’ve probably heard of, Turning Point USA. Turning Point is a sprawling right-wing operation. And maybe it’s because I live here, but for much of last year, it felt like they came up in every story I read about the election.
I kept hearing about critical pieces of campaign infrastructure that Trump had outsourced to Turning Point — voter turnout in particular. And in articles about key figures in Trump’s orbit, amidst the familiar hodgepodge of far-right agitators and opportunists, there was a new name: Charlie Kirk, the 31-year-old founder of Turning Point.
And so, about six weeks after Trump’s victory, I went to the Phoenix Convention Center, for an event that Turning Point calls AmericaFest.
AmericaFest is many things: a gathering of high school and college-age activists, a pop-up market for health supplements that list things like “patriotic spirit” and “Godly devotion” on their ingredient labels, and above all, a four-day victory lap. On that first night of AmericaFest, a crowd of thousands swarmed the main hall at the Convention Center to watch a 20 minute hype video celebrating Turning Point’s impact on the 2024 election.
At the end of the video, the lights went out. For a moment, a hush fell over the room. A picture of Turning Point founder Charlie Kirk appeared on the screen.
Chest-rattling house music erupted from the speakers. The crowd went wild. Kirk appeared in silhouette behind a baffold, and then strolled out on stage, his arms stretched wide.

After a confetti cannon went off, and the “Thank you, Charlie!” chants from the crowd died down, Kirk launched into a stemwinder. By the grace of God almighty, he told the crowd, America had survived the Biden administration. The last four years, he declared, had been an embarrassment. But not, it would seem, because of expensive groceries or gas prices. In fact, Kirk barely mentioned the economy — or the border, which garnered only passing mention, and even then, only tepid applause.
What troubled Charlie Kirk most, it seemed, was the loss of our national virility.
"We’re sick and tired of hearing about toxic masculinity, when we are drowning in toxic femininity! When we become a feelings-based culture — you can’t say that, you can’t do that, you’re going to offend somebody," Kirk said. "And who is the most overtly masculine political figure of the last hundred years? It’s the man who would never apologize for America! That doesn’t care about what sensibilities he offends."
For Charlie Kirk, the reelection of Donald Trump was the return to American masculinity.
"In many ways, this was an election that was about culture more than it was about politics. That it was about, who are we as a people?" he said.

In Kirk’s ideal world, we are a people unmoved by feelings. Ironically, moments after he said that, the crowd rose to its feet as he began denouncing trans people.
"We need to end the medical mutilation of our children called 'gender reassignment surgery.' Immediately," he said.
And it was here, when Kirk started shouting about gender, that the applause became anything but tepid. It was deafening.
"No men in women’s sports! But understand, that was a controversial thing to say three or four years ago. It took a little bit of a masculine chip on the shoulder to say, 'No, actually I’m not going to allow that to happen.' You see, they wanted us to be quiet and afraid and silent and subservant ..." he said.
I will admit, when I heard this, I couldn’t help thinking that “having a masculine chip on the shoulder” sounds a lot like men having hurt feelings. But that, evidently, is not what Charlie Kirk meant. For him, the problem was other people’s feelings.
"Young men wanna be part of a political movement that doesn’t hate them. In fact, let me go a step further, that thinks they're essential to the future of a country," he said.
In the convention hall after Kirk’s speech, I tracked down some of these young men. Meet Owen.
"I run the Turning Point USA chapter at Florida State University," said Owen.
And meet James.
"I’m a Turning Point ambassador, and I also run my own social media conservative influencer-type things," said James."
Owen and James are both in their 20s. They were both wearing suits. And like Charlie Kirk, they were both in a panic about gender.
"You know, a male holds open the door, and it’s like, 'Well, a woman can do it on her own,'" said James. "Well, I just wanna be a nice person and hold open that door. It’s not that I think a female can't open the door for herself, it’s just, I wanna be nice."
Why, James lamented, won’t women just let him be nice? Why must they assume his attempts at chivalry are in fact an attempt to belittle them?
"So how I look at it is — and the reason you have this red-pill movement — is because young men have felt forgotten," said James.
There they are again — those pesky emotions. I asked James if he agreed with Charlie Kirk — that we shouldn’t be a nation based on feelings. But once again, it seemed, I was missing the point. Men’s feelings weren’t the problem.
"That feeling comes from action towards men," said James. "So when you say, 'Hey, OK, you can put a male in a dress, and he’s now female.' And if a male wants to paint his nails. If we say, 'Hey, that’s not what men do, men need to be strong so they can protect their family and work hard and build a long-lasting legacy,' then they attack that, so —"

I told James I think the pushback to that would be that if a man decides they want to wear a dress and identify as a woman, that doesn’t necessarily mean they can’t work hard or protect their family.
"I think when you allow those gender roles, or specifically those two things to be misconstrued, in my personal opinion, that diminishes masculinity, and that diminishes malehood," said James.
Owen agreed. “Malehood” is under attack. As is femalehood.
"With women, you have the masculinization of them. You say, especially with young women, go to college, go get a job, prioritize these things, these individual interests over things like family creation, relationships, things like that," said Owen.
But is that an inherently masculine? To go to college and have a job?
"I would say that, in order to provide for a family. The purpose of having a job, getting an education is the ability to provide for a family — the ability to provide for something greater than yourself," said Owen. " And I think if a man tried to argue that that’s masculinity, that’s completely wrong. The inversion of gender roles is the biggest problem that we’re actually having, and it's confusing young people and it's how you end up with women wearing dresses."
I’m not sure I followed Owen’s logic there — or James’, for that matter. But I also can’t blame them for being confused. They both told me that they grew up without fathers. And that, they said, is one of the things that draws them to men like Donald Trump and Charlie Kirk —and the man who closed out night one of AmericaFest: Tucker Carlson.
After another blast of confetti from on high, Carlson gave a meandering speech that called for isolationist foreign policy, vaccine skepticism and the end of abortion rights. He paused periodically to stuff a nicotine pouch into his lip. Like Kirk, his message was fueled by a kind of patriarchal grievance. At one point, he urged the crowd to hold centrist Republicans accountable.
"Just make them obey. I think that’s up to us. Don’t be charmed by them. Force them, spank them like the bad little girls they are. Thank you!" said Carlson.
Towards the end of the speech, Carlson opened the floor for questions. A young man named Jake, with dimples and a sharp jawline, approached the microphone.
"So, hi, Tucker. My name is Jake. My question is about nicotine. So, I see your little packet — I don’t know if that’s Zyn, or Alp. But from what I hear, nicotine comes with a bunch of benefits — increasing testosterone, love that," said Jake. "So, it’s my 16th birthday today. And when did you start taking nicotine, and when would you recommend taking nicotine?"
Carlson would indeed recommend it.
"I'm just telling you what works for me. I don't drink or use drugs of any kind, including Advil, and I haven't for 22 years," said Carlson. "I don’t put any chemicals in my body whatsoever other than nicotine and black coffee, and I feel great! I do."
I couldn’t find Jake in the crowd after Carlson’s speech, which is too bad. I wanted to know what he thought of Tucker’s answer. After all — it’s just how he feels.