Sabrina Carpenter, one of the biggest rising Gen Z pop stars, has sparked a heated conversation among feminist spaces. Her upcoming album, titled “Man’s Best Friend”, is set to release this month, and has a controversial cover of Carpenter on her knees, led by a man gripping her ponytail. Many are asking if Carpenter’s work is empowering and sexually liberating, or is it toxically feminine, regressive and bowing to the male gaze and setting women back?
The binary conversation is missing the point of her work. Carpenter’s discography and persona do not dismantle the patriarchy. Her work relies heavily on patriarchal structures and dynamics by flipping the script and reapplying women’s patriarchal values and expectations onto men. Once that is understood, the question becomes: Is this use of patriarchal structures truly productive in advancing feminist goals?
Her hit song “Espresso” from her “Short n’ Sweet” album has played a million times in retail stores for six months after its release on April 11, 2024. The recurrence of this song on store playlists exposed many to Carpenter’s playful but off-putting lyricism, such as “If you don’t want me / I’ll just deem you gay” in her track “Busy Woman”, along with “I showed my friends, then we high-fived / Sorry if you feel objectified” in her song “Juno.” These lines have landed as smug and slightly arrogant, rubbing many people the wrong way.
But perhaps that’s the point — to make people uncomfortable.
Although I am a gay man myself, hearing someone sing these lines talking about a man made me feel, well, objectified to use her own words. I felt talked down to, seen as a tool for personal gratification, an ego boost and nothing more. But crucially, these feelings are the same feelings that women have felt for centuries under the patriarchy, especially within the context of locker room talk. Carpenter is implying that men need to feel the same objectification that women have experienced to empathize with feminist ideas and goals fully.
To contribute to the broader debate about her work, it’s questionable to say that her music is empowering for women. Of course, as a man, I can’t fully speak to what women do and don’t find empowering. But her lyrics include statements such as “To turn me down, well, that’s just unethical.” It not only ignores the concept of consent, but also validates the message that a woman’s confidence is only contingent on male approval, rather than a woman knowing her own worth. It reads as surface-level confidence that hinges on being chosen.
When comparing these lyrics to another artist with feminist themes, like Kali Uchis, this becomes even more apparent. Uchis’s lyrics focus on her own value, positive self-image, autonomy and an authentic love for herself. She is still sensual in her work, but the male presence in her life is optional and she sees it as a privilege that can be taken away. For example, when Uchis sings “veo una muñeca cuando miro en el espejo” — “I see a doll when I look in the mirror” — or “if they thought they had a chance / I’m sorry… that’s all mine, all me,” her confidence doesn’t come from the attention she gets, but rather is fostered internally. The male attention is a given because she knows she is worth it.
Still, Carpenter’s work isn’t fully regressive to modern feminist goals. There is undoubtedly a sentiment of playful confidence-building geared towards women that is healthy, specifically in lines such as “My honey bee, come get this pollen” in “Espresso.” But again, this conversation needs to consider the fact that Carpenter is utilizing the patriarchy to hold up a mirror to men’s faces.
On one hand, a goal that embodies the myth of reverse oppression, in this case through the objectification of men by denying their autonomy, can force empathy in the oppressor class. But, it also normalizes the dismissal of men’s sexual autonomy, who already aren’t taken seriously as victims of sexual assault. In other words, Carpenter’s lyrical approach is a sticky double-edged sword that simultaneously empowers women and validates their sexuality while exacerbating ways in which the patriarchy negatively impacts men.
Sabrina Carpenter is not subverting patriarchy — she’s weaponizing it. Whether she wields that weapon to clear space for women’s sexual expression or uses it to cut deeper into men’s patriarchal wounds is for her audience to confront.
Alexander Randall is an Opinion Intern for the summer 2025 quarter. He can be reached at arandal1@uci.edu.