It’s my junior year of high school, and I’ve just been broken up with. I’m taking out my rage on the stairmaster at the local Crunch fitness, episode two of “Call Her Daddy” accompanying every stomp.
I’m falling down a rabbit hole of self-pity; two days post-my-first-heartbreak, co-hosts Alex Cooper and Sofia Franklyn are helping me pick up the pieces of my ego. I want to be part of their infamous “Daddy Gang,” and my newfound big sisters are teaching me to game men in the same way that men game us. It’s very binary. While my steps up the never-ending staircase don’t falter, I feel an uncomfortable shift in how I understand myself and feminism.
From 2018 onwards, Alex Cooper and Sofia Franklyn redefined women’s locker-room talk with episodes on dating — albeit mostly sex — tips, amusing anecdotes and audience Q&As. I discovered “Call Her Daddy” in 2022. I was late to the game, chronologically speaking, but online enough — thank you, COVID-19 — to watch the fourth wave of feminism unfold across social platforms at the same time the podcast gained popularity among my peers. I considered the two to be somewhat related: Alex and Sofia seemed to be forcing open the door to a world of transparency, where women could talk about sex — not just having it, but enjoying it — in a way that I remembered as being reserved exclusively for men.
Is “Call Her Daddy” objectively good or bad? I don’t know, I’m biased towards good. But to the question: Is it feminist? Teenage me thought so. Today, I think there’s more room for debate. The fourth wave of feminism, which began around the early 2010s, is characterized by digital activism and creating space for women to talk about social issues. For their time, producing sexual how-to episodes geared towards an audience of women on a male-centric platform like Barstool Sports was revolutionary. If you’ve ever listened to some of their most infamous episodes — Episode 3, “The Gluck Gluck 9000,” or Episode 5, “Fine Dining: An Eating Out Special,” featuring the Cooch Gobbler Combo, iykyk — you’ll understand that Alex and Sofia truly did make strides towards normalizing the pursuit of the female orgasm.
However, with great power comes great responsibility. The decidedly anti-feminist aspect comes in the pair’s hierarchical relationship to men; more specifically, how they instruct women to view themselves through men’s eyes and adjust their expectations accordingly. In their second episode, “If you’re a 5 or 6, Die for that D*ck,” Cooper and Franklyn lay out a ranking system for how men treat women. On a scale of 1 to 10, girls who rank higher in attractiveness get treated better.
Sofia says: “If you’re a five or a six, you are filthy. You have to be like a pornstar, ‘cum on the face and make it fucking rain, baby.’”
Alex responds: “Or, if you’re a 9 or a 10, a guy knows that he’s got to roll out the red fucking carpet … because he knows you’re not just going to spread your legs and be like ‘here we go, baby let’s do that damn thing.’”
If you’re a 5 or a 6, congrats, you still have a shot at getting laid — but with a paper bag over your head. Is this empowering? I’m not so sure that these messages reflect the ideals of challenging traditional gender roles and promoting inclusivity that define fourth-wave feminism.
“Call Her Daddy” is funny, particularly in those outstandingly vulgar first fifty episodes. I don’t necessarily believe that you need to engage with feminist material all the time or avoid anything anti-feminist to call yourself a champion of equality.
The podcast is an interesting snapshot of both Gen Z’s often conflicting ideologies and a confusing moment in the history of feminism. Women have always been asked to succeed in a system set up against them.
“ Alex and Sofia aimed to offer advice that would allow women to beat the men at their own convoluted game.”
Alex and Sofia aimed to offer advice that would allow women to beat the men at their own convoluted game. Through encouraging women to participate in this system, the hosts risk taking regressive steps towards traditional gender roles — namely, championing sex tips and calling it equality.
Cooper is aware that some of the ideas she shared could potentially be harmful. In a 2024 interview with The Hollywood Reporter,, she reflects on her podcast experience. When asked, “You have put a lot out there. What’s something you’ve said that you wish you could take back?” Cooper makes clear that her intention was never to harm:
“Like any creator, you’re going to say some dumb shit. I don’t know if I’d take anything back … I’ve done episodes where I’m like, ‘You guys, remember when I used to say that this is how you should react to a man? I actually don’t agree anymore and propose this instead.’”
I think “Call Her Daddy’s” man-centered rhetoric causes harm. The show focuses on how to “game” men — rationalizing Alex and Sofia’s manipulative behavior as a kind of counter-terrorism mechanism. They seem to say, “They’re doing it to us, so let’s do it back.”
But it isn’t realistic, or healthy, to play the game. Said game is explained in Episode 29, “Why They Won’t F*ck You.” If your goal is more than a hookup — Episode 30 “Sex Toys & How to Not Catch Feelings” — or you want to form a healthy relationship — Episode 1 “Sext Me So I Know It’s Real” — the show might not provide the best advice.
My point isn’t to bash “Call Her Daddy.” The pair acted as role models for me. But it’s important to remember that just because the game exists, it doesn’t mean you have to play it.
On the path to de-center men, it would seem like a rational step to unsubscribe from “Call Her Daddy.” I can’t bring myself to do so, but I also refuse to rank myself on a scale of 1 to 10. I refuse to worry about how the hypothetical man I may or may not be trying to screw is going to perceive me, or adjust my behavior for him. If you’re looking for a fun podcast to get you in the mood or to pick up some sex tips, “Call Her Daddy” is a good bet. But don’t let the opinions of two women who exist in a man-centered vacuum tell you how to make yourself more or less of a feminist.
Arianna Kaplan SC ’27 is very concerned with college social dynamics, our weird nightlife scene, creative nonfiction and philosophy. She will tell you, without fail, that she studied abroad in Paris. Please, please, please ask her about it.
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