The So-Called "Masc Shortage" Is Total BS
If you’ve spent any time on sapphic TikTok as of late, you’ve probably encountered the so-called “masc shortage” fueling a panic among hyper-online lesbians. For those lucky enough to be unfamiliar with the discourse, this “shortage” describes the supposed lack of available masc-of-center people to date; simply put, there are not enough single butches, studs, or mascs in general, to go around. The complaints ring out the same: every good masc person is taken, and the remainder are either corny or toxic.
A lot of the videos lamenting this situation are meant to be tongue-in-cheek. Some try to make sense of the shortage, citing reasons like masc4masc dynamics, straight women being “over men,” and increased demand generally. Others are sincere calls to the universe to send more mascs their way. Even the queer dating app Her has sounded the proverbial alarm, offering free lifetime subscriptions to mascs to “combat this sapphic emergency.” Despite the buzz, many are nonetheless wondering: Is there really a masc shortage? If so, what does that mean, exactly? And if the most likely situation — that there is no actual deficit — is in fact the case, why do so many seem to believe there is?
The masc shortage of the moment may be new to TikTok, but the sentiment is recurrent within intracommunity discourse. For decades, some cis lesbians have claimed that too many masc people are transitioning out of lesbianism and, as a result, out of their dating pool. This is a form of panic dating at least back to the nineties, when the already porous borders between butch and transmasc identity were beginning to blur in more publicly visible ways. Every few years, it seems like a fresh crop of cis femmes manufactures a new variant of this talking point, sanding off the more pointedly transphobic edges but clinging to the same concern. As a masc person myself (who dates other mascs, might I add) I believe all this talk actually reveals a shortage of a different nature — not a lack of masc singles, but a lack of imagination. Has there ever truly been a “masc shortage,” or is that just a euphemistic shorthand for a lack of masc people who fit worryingly narrow, cisnormative ideals of whiteness, thinness, and androgyny?
From where I sit, rumors of a “masc shortage” are greatly exaggerated. Transfemme butches and transmasc lesbians have more language to describe their experiences and are more visible than ever before. Dyke bars are having a renaissance, with more popping up across the country, many of which are making a concerted effort to attract a broad and trans-inclusive clientele. On top of it all, we also have countless queer dating apps at our fingertips; so what does the shortage actually refer to? As I scroll through my For You page, seeing video after video complaining about the shortage, a series of more pointed questions flit through my mind: Is there a masc shortage, or do you not date trans people? Is there a masc shortage, or are you discounting masc people who play with their gender expression? Is there a masc shortage, or do you want only a skinny, androgynous person? Is there a masc shortage, or are the mascs just not into you? Is there a masc shortage, or do you just not see us as masc?
These are not new questions. The toxic discourse about butches transitioning out of the lesbian dating pool only intensified in the aughts and 2010s, even becoming an entire storyline on The L Word in the late 2000s with numerous characters criticizing Max Sweeney (played by Daniel Sea) for “abandoning” the lesbian community by transitioning. This new wave of “masc shortage” discourse may not be saying the quiet part out loud anymore, but it still suggests only one version of queer masculinity as desirable in sapphic spaces. As people bemoan the absence of “mascs” and others simply nod along, there are obvious unspoken assumptions about who’s included in that descriptor — and who doesn’t count.
