In her study, From Boys to Men: Rhetorics of Emergent American Masculinity, Leigh Ann Jones adroitly explains how masculinity is rhetorically hegemonized: “The hegemony of any form of masculinity exists because it is continually remade through rhetorical acts with the project of the developing male a key part of this remaking” (21). Jones analyzes boys’ youth organizations’ (e.g., Boy Scouts of America) rhetorical moves—how they construct narratives about boys’ transition into manhood. Importantly, Jones concludes that “the organizations assume boys must be groomed through a connection to a larger national community that guides them through language into fully becoming men” (120). The organizations groom boys to become key subjects of the nation: they are groomed to be part of hegemonic masculinity (120).

Though not the kind of organization Jones analyzes, Parks and Recreation offers similar instructions in hegemonic masculinity and illustrates how feminism fits within the masculine hegemonic framework. Maureen Ryan’s article “What ‘Parks And Recreation’ Taught My Son about Feminism” describes the show’s heuristic elements and what it teaches her son about women, not necessarily about taking action. It also instructs in hegemonic masculinity’s relationship to women—deconstructing the culturally idealized form of a masculine character (in a given historical setting) as a toxic reification of hegemonic masculinity (Connell 69). On the positive side, Ryan notes how the show taught her son that “there are all kinds of women in the world who have all kinds of goals and values; there isn’t one ‘right’ way to be female,” and that “women face not only straight-up sexism but also more subtle forms of bias, and they can talk about it and challenge it and the world won’t end.” While these lessons may be feminist and challenge hegemony, Maureen Ryan is also forgiving of Tom’s sexism, commenting that “underneath the swagger was a smart, caring person willing to follow through on good ideas.” Through the actions and words of characters throughout the series, viewers are encouraged to see Tom as an ally of women, despite his continual negative actions toward women characters.

Furthermore, masculinity, as R.W. Connell explains, is not monolithic:

Different masculinities do not sit side-by-side like dishes on a smorgasbord. There are definite social relations between them. Especially, there are relations of hierarchy, for some masculinities are dominant while others are subordinated or marginalized. (Connell 10)

In Parks and Recreation, though Tom represents a subordinate type of masculinity, he nevertheless strives to be the masculine hegemon in one particular way: “The main axis of power in the contemporary European/US gender order is the overall subordination of women and dominance of men—the structure that women’s liberation named ‘patriarchy’” (Connell 24). Tom, in other words, is expert in subordinating women, devaluing them into object-status—sexualized bodies.

Tom, unlike many men rhetorically constructed into subjects of hegemonic masculinity, is often aware of his anti-feminist practices. Besides being called out on his behavior by Ann (Tom’s coworker and later girlfriend) and Lucy (Tom’s girlfriend), Tom admits to objectifying women as experiences to be sampled by creating 26 profiles on a dating site, “each designed to attract a different type of girl.” In “Soulmates,” Leslie is matched with one of Tom’s personas, “Tom N. Haverford.” The “N” is short for “nerd.” The episode suggests Tom knows how to say all the right things and understands people’s various value systems.

By excusing Tom’s actions toward women throughout the series, Parks and Recreation suggests that it’s acceptable for men to engage in misogynistic behavior as long as they are repentant and supportive of feminist ideals at some later date. Ultimately, it becomes important to look beyond what the show instructs boys with regards to feminism. It is important to look more deeply at men’s behaviors and their interactions with women and how women, themselves, take part in such interactions—a more informed understanding of feminism and hegemonic masculinity. Otherwise, the valuable lessons are more “belief” or “ideal” than instructions in masculinity and/or feminist practices. Jones asks an important question: “In what ways are women and girls invested in narratives of masculine becoming?” (124). In other words, if men are being instructed in how to fit feminism into the hegemonic framework through “belief” and not “action,” then how are women instructed in such a framework?

One answer to this question has to do with a kind of metamodern rhetorical problem: a belief in men’s feminist authenticity in spite of behaviors which may indicate otherwise. In other words, women and girls are instructed to look beyond the sexist action and to the “authentic” self of the man. As such, part of the remaking of hegemonic masculinity is located in metamodern rhetorical ambivalences: in how one can feel (pathos) the “good” of another’s character (ethos) even though logically (logos) it doesn’t follow. Leslie Knope’s belief in Tom Haverford’s character as being authentically good despite his actions belies this metamodern rhetorical issue.

This view of Tom is metamodern and highly rhetorical. Viewers are encouraged to believe that, “deep down,” Tom values women and believes in equity (a modern ideal grounded in authenticity). However, the bulk of Tom’s interactions with women essentialize or otherwise demean them—actions that are wrong but upheld by the hegemonic culture as the way powerful men are supposed to act. See the supercut and/or transcript for compelling evidence of Tom’s behavior.

Leslie’s character sees this contradiction in Tom’s behavior and determines that Tom would like to engage in equitable practices instead of sexist ones. In other words, Leslie believes in the modern ideal of equity. However, in observing Tom’s behavior, she also doubts the possibility of an equitable society and accepts Tom’s behavior as a by-product of the culture instead of a core value held by Tom. Leslie’s postmodern cynicism is balanced by her modernist desire for the ideal.

Leslie’s character encourages the view that Tom is both really good and really sexist, so let’s just forgive him. Tom Haverford is not a character to be taken seriously. His failures with women can often be considered what not to do. After all, his sexist ploys usually fail. In contrast, when he is “authentic” (i.e. drops the bravado and machismo) as he is at the end of “The Master Plan” episode, he is successful (i.e., his honesty and lack of bravado helps him successfully court Lucy). The main problem is how Tom’s metamodern masculinity is embraced by feminist characters who excuse the behavior as “Tom being Tom” (ironically, even Lucy seems to embrace his sexist behavior once they start dating, though at first she couldn’t seem to stand his bravado). In “Freddy Spaghetti” when Tom awkwardly brags about their doing “sex stuff” the night before to his coworkers, Lucy responds, “So, I don’t have to apologize for his behavior, right?” Though not dealing with sexism, “The Stakeout” illustrates the underlying forgiveness of Leslie towards Tom’s obnoxious behavior. Leslie tries to convince Dave (Pawnee Police Officer) to release Tom from jail after Tom was arrested for being a “smartass” with the officer: “No, Look. That’s what people think when they first meet him [Tom] but he’s all talk.”

Leslie and Lucy aren’t the only women characters to adopt an irresponsible naivete around Tom’s behaviors. April, in “Operation Ann,” convinces Ann to date Tom and ignore his chauvinist grandstanding because “he’s sweet.” She advocates for Tom’s authenticity in spite of his words, insisting that, underneath it all, he is a “good” guy. Similarly, in “Gin It Up!,” April “tells a prospective love interest [Nadia] of Tom’s that he’s ‘sweet’ and ‘cool,’” arguing for Nadia to look past the swagger (Engstrom 52). Even Ron, in “The Fight,” suggests Tom is genuinely honest. When Chris Traeger makes Tom sell his Snakehole Lounge shares because of a conflict of interest, Ron argues: “Tom’s not scamming anyone. He’s not savvy enough to manipulate the system like that. He’s just a kid chasing a goofy dream.” In acknowledging some sort of underlying “authentic” Tom, these characters are expressing the appeal to nature fallacy—because Tom’s nature is authentically good, his behavior should be excused. In spite of outward appearances, Tom is really a “good guy.” He’s someone who may seem like a reprobate but is an “authentically” good person.

Additionally, Tom’s character can be read as falling into a common trope of Indian masculinity in the United States. Murali Balaji describes such limited representations in his work comparing Bollywood and Hollywood representations of Indian men: Hollywood’s “[d]ominant constructions of Indian masculinity in film consisted of store owners, sidekicks, buffoons or immigrants seeking (awkwardly) to win the affections of women” (58). Balaji² also describes how representation practices of Indians in global media is changing, fitting more into U.S. masculine norms and idealized hegemonic masculinity—tending to be “increasingly sexualized and physically imposing” (Balaji). Tom is never depicted as physically imposing or powerful. He is not, in other words, threatening to white audiences in the United States. In failing to represent these new tropes of Indian masculinity, Tom is a rhetorically “safe” representation of the “Other.”

In “Leslie’s House,” Tom even denies his connection to his Indian heritage. In recounting a childhood visit to India, he explains, “Last time I was in India, I was eight years old, and I stayed inside the whole time playing video games.” As well, when another character probed him on details regarding the region his parents grew up, Tom had to find the information covertly on the internet (“Leslie’s House”). Tom explicitly says that he feels no connection with India. His behavior suggests he does not want to be an Indian-American. Instead, his behavior suggests a desire to be the powerful, influential masculine hegemon and part of the white norm. Thus, Tom can be easily understood, implicitly and explicitly, as a rhetorical construct designed to maintain white hegemony over masculinity.

Though Tom does initially inhabit the trope of Indian masculinity often seen in Hollywood, he also challenges it in being a more developed character and, at times, in being a “good” person doing the “right” thing. For instance, Tom provides a stark contrast to the other one-dimensional characters he associates with, characters who inhabit their own familiar and demeaning tropes: the “greedy Jew” (Jean-Ralphio Saperstein) and the “Jewish princess” (Mona-Lisa Saperstein). These characters are more socially awkward than Tom, and unlike these characters, Tom is not so narcissistic and is, at times, at least reflective about his subject position.

In “How a Bill Becomes a Law,” Tom is heroic, more than a “nerdy” one-dimensional character. He works with Leslie to extend the public pool hours for children in the Pawnee community. Tom saves Leslie’s credibility by pushing Jeremy Jamm into the pool before he can embarrass Leslie by informing the media and the children present about the ridiculous quid pro quo ensuring extended hours. Leslie gave Jeremy Jamm her office, which has a coveted private bathroom. Tom did the “right” thing in supporting Leslie and maintaining the children’s political naivete.

In “The Stakeout,” when Leslie makes racist assumptions about Tom’s birthplace and his name (i.e., that he was “conceived in Libya”), Tom “gets real,” and his usual bravado is replaced with a serious tone. He responds, “I was conceived in America. My parents are Indian ... My birth name is Darwish Zubair Ismail Gani. Then I changed it to Tom Haverford because, you know, brown guys with funny-sounding Muslim names don’t make it far in politics.” To which Leslie responds, “What about Barack Obama?” Tom shows he is more than simply a buffoon or awkward character. He is critically aware about implicit racism and his position in the larger white, masculine hegemonic culture. However, Leslie negates Tom’s observation in her “exception to the rule” argument, letting audience members “off the hook,” so to speak, in understanding how hegemonic culture is connected to systemic racism.

Such critical awareness from Tom makes it easy to view him and his intentions as authentic and well-meaning. Engstrom agrees, saying “The people who know him well also know of Tom’s true character” (51). These hints at authenticity make it easy to accept his humor, which relies on “ironic” or “hipster” sexism: humor that winks at casual sexism, making it an inside joke among those who acknowledge sexism is outdated.

However, we disagree with Engstrom. Ironic sexism is still sexism, and in hiding behind the mask of self-awareness, it is particularly microaggressive. In her critique of ironic advertising, Anita Sarkeesian explains how ironic sexism simply masquerades as a “woke” understanding of oppression while in fact contributing to its ubiquity in culture and media:

While we think we are in on the joke, the reality is they aren’t making fun of or pointing out sexism, they’re [marketers] doing it...Marketers love the uber ironic sexist style of advertising because they [marketers] can use all the racist, sexist misogynist imagery they want and simultaneously distance themselves from it with a little wink and a nod.

Bitch Media’s Kelsey Wallace connects the practice of hipster sexism to everyday practices. Just as Sarkeesian notes how this type of sexism opens the door for all manner of offensive and oppressive actions, Wallace describes the way hipster sexism provides a readymade excuse for those seeking to diminish the impact of sexist acts or comments:

It creates an environment where it’s okay to dismiss someone as a slut and to blow her off if she challenges you. Where you can joke that a woman should make you a sandwich knowing that she’ll ‘get’ the joke, but really, underneath it all you kind of do think women should have to make your sandwiches. Where women, regardless of the cut of their jeans, don’t feel safe because they probably aren’t.

Through Tom’s seemingly ironic sexism, Parks and Recreation creates an uncertainty in the viewer and becomes a confusing heuristic about masculinity. Viewers can believe Tom is “authentically” a good person and brush off his sexism as “fake” or “not real.” When he refers to Trish as the “hot one,” the audience is in on the “wink,” in on the irony that Tom isn’t “authentically” sleazy, right?

In “The Master Plan” viewers witness Tom’s dating practice of “casting a wide net” (i.e., inviting a lot of women to a club, buying them drinks, and giving them his house key). Women are literally objectified as fish, with drinks and keys acting as hooks. Though Tom fails with the fish, he does, as mentioned, “hook” Lucy (the bartender) with a bit of “authentic” Tom. He acknowledges his failure to Lucy, and that’s authentic. But, again, is “authentic” Tom really “authentic”? Once he starts dating Lucy, he might be said to regress to his old ways, which Lucy accepts. His relationships with Nadia and Ann undergo similar struggles with “authenticity.” Ann is the only one who tires of Tom’s behavior, and, of course, it has no effect on Tom’s behavior after she dumps him. Furthermore, as blogger Ian Irwin observes in his rewatching of the show, Tom is “relentless in his pursuit of Ann”—never taking no for an answer. As a heuristic for masculinity, Tom seems to communicate that sexism and relentless harassment can be easily excused if you have a good heart, a good personality. Tom’s sexism becomes “lovable”—it’s somehow cute and excusable rather than patriarchal.

Tom’s everyday sexism, without major consequences or interrogation, is reflective of larger issues with practicing “feminism.” Leslie, so credulous and responsible in other ways, fails in this very interpersonal and close form of anti-feminism. In “believing” in authenticity, Leslie’s credulity becomes irresponsible.

Tom Haverford’s “pass” by a number of characters becomes more uncomfortable when his character is compared to Jeremy Jamm, the hyperbolic sexist villain who represents white patriarchy and the archetype of toxic masculinity. Throughout Leslie’s career as a councilwoman, Jamm thwarts her efforts to govern, impedes progress at every opportunity, and makes sexist comments along the way. Jamm and Haverford, as the supercuts illustrate, share sexist sensibilities, yet Jamm has no “authentic” goodness. As such, he is reviled by characters and viewers alike.

Racial politics play a role in how these rhetorical manifestations are viewed. Jamm, unlike Tom, has coercive, governmental power. He represents a “real” and dangerous power being critiqued by the show. Jamm might be said to be “authentically” bad. He never demonstrates growth or remorse, even when he is shown sympathetically to be lonely and living what viewers are to believe is a “sad” life. Leslie offers Jamm sympathy in “The Cones of Dunshire,” and just as it looks like he might be considerate, he fails, saying: “You know, in some weird, perverted, sexual way, I'm gonna miss you when you're gone.”

Tom is the “lovable sexist.” After all, he’s got the “Haverford charm ray” and balances two positions of masculinity that seem at odds, shifting between them as vehicles for humor. Haverford may be frustrating to other characters, but he’s often seen as funny, goofy, and lovable (playing into the stereotype): “Tom being Tom.” There is never a “Jamm being Jamm” moment where viewers are led to believe he is genuinely “good.” Unlike Tom, Jamm never displays a metamodern masculinity, which might endear him more to other characters or to viewers.

Tom’s sexism, however, becomes more troubling when additional racial contexts are considered. In the show, Tom is a token. Out of six major men characters who appear in most of the series (Tom, Ron, Gerry, Andy, Chris, and Ben), Tom is the only one who isn’t white. Out of these characters, Tom has the most difficult time with women and the least “woke” perspective. Whiteness—“a racialized understanding of domination over others”—doesn’t really oscillate positions as much as control all positions in the show (Santamaría Graff 1). We see the same phenomenon Engstrom observes regarding men characters in Parks and Recreation, that “[a[s a composite, these unique, individualistic portrayals offer a set of personality traits indicative of a ‘New Man’ persona, one that promotes Parks and Recreation’s underlying themes of friendship, prosocial behavior, and an explicated code of conduct reflective of both” (49). However, we see inequity in the show’s portrayal of men. In Parks and Recreation whiteness “gets” to be an attractive composite of white men characters, a composite showing more respect for women, while the lone person of color is consistently depicted engaging in inappropriate behavior toward women.

For example, Chris, Ron, and Andy—all Tom’s friends and coworkers—in “Lucky” demonstrate a respect for women; Gerry is a character even more naive than Andy and is respectful to everyone; Ben repeatedly demonstrates a reflective feminist ethic questioning how he can best support Leslie in her political campaign and respond to the “Male Men,” a men’s rights protest group complaining that Ben, because he is taking part in the Indiana Organization for Women’s pie making contest, has had no choice in becoming “too” feminized. Allan Johnson in Gender Knot: Unraveling Our Patriarchal Legacy describes what seems to be going on: “Dominant groups avoid scrutiny because their position enables them to define their own interests as those of society as a whole” (157). It furthermore reflects Hughey’s observations about hegemonic whiteness and how whiteness is constructed as “inter-racial difference and superiority: positioning whites as essentially different and superior from those marked as nonwhite” (204). Parks and Recreation reserves feminist practices for white men, not brown men.

At the same time, however, Hughey’s observation about “intra-racial distinction and marginalization” is also occurring where there are marginalizing practices of being white that fail to exemplify dominant white racial ideals and expectations (204). White masculinity gets it all: white characters’ sexism is demonized and white characters are lionized in their relationships with women. Whiteness avoids scrutiny in scrutinizing itself, having a number of heroes. Meanwhile, the non-white masculine representation is defined as harmless, powerless—and so Tom’s sexism is rendered impotent. The relationship between whiteness and Tom’s marginalized masculinity is described well by Phillips: “Marginalized masculinities or ‘outcasts’ from the norm are constructed in the productive wake of the ideal, and as the conditions necessary for the ideal’s production and ‘natural’ appearance” (qtd. in Haywood and Johansson 7).

The contrasts between Jamm, the “good” white men, and Tom is a racially significant dichotomy. Intersectionality plays a central role in how “character” and character (ethos) are viewed; by balancing overt sexist acts with a backtracking, humorous charm, societal norms of propriety and white privilege are maintained. There is no disruption of white norms with, say, Tom’s being feminist and lovable rather than sexist and lovable. “Lovable sexism,” then, operates the same way as ironic or hipster sexism: it oppresses women and men (in the sense of valuing some expressions of masculinity over others) more effectively than overt acts of sexism because it gets excused and treated as “inconsequential” by an “inconsequential” Other.

Parks and Recreation illustrates a broad inequality in how sexism can be excused through affability, charm, race, and through two oscillating beliefs: that one can’t really be like that and that that’s just the way the Other is. Sexist behaviors are excused because “when push comes to shove,” he’ll “do the right thing.”

² Tom also doesn’t fit into the current Hollywood trend Balaji observes as the “geeky” tech expert.