“Hustler’s University is the greatest thing that exists on the planet for people who are trying to escape the Matrix. I will show you how,” says Andrew Tate, standing beside the world’s most expensive car, a Bugatti Veyron.
“It makes it impossible to not make money”, adds a recent graduate. “When you’re surrounded by millionaires money just falls into your bank account”.
“You are finally in the right place at the right time. You are the only person who can make this work. And you are also the only person who can f*ck this up”, says Tate, pointing at the camera.
I paused the video. I had enrolled in the online business course set up by the controversial influencer accused of human trafficking and rape.
For the unaware, Andrew Tate is a former kickboxer, reality TV contestant and social media influencer, who has gained notoriety over the years for peddling misogynistic views.
Originally called Hustler’s University, his online course is sold as an “academy” where members pay a monthly membership fee in exchange for advice on how to make a passive income from several online industries.
The course was rebranded to Hustler’s University 2.0, then 3.0 and then briefly shut down after Tate’s social media ban. It has since been relaunched, again, as “The Real World”.
When you enter the site you are met with the slogan “Join us. Amass wealth. Escape Slavery.” After clicking through, you are asked to enter your bank details and “escape slavery” for £40 a month.
Users are given a choice of online courses including cryptocurrency, e-commerce and drop shipping for Amazon – where you make money by acting as a middle-man between buyers and sellers without selling an actual product.
The idea is members of the course will learn to make money through side hustles or having a passive income, where you can escape working the nine-to-five – or as Andrew Tate calls it, “escaping the Matrix”.
Tate frequently refers to the world of the Matrix, the alternate, fake reality of the Keanu Reeves film where computers control people through an intricate web of lies.
There is also the option of the “freelancing” course, where you are encouraged to make fake Tiktok accounts and post videos of Tate.
These videos, in turn, ask viewers to join “The Real World” with a small percentage of the course fee paid back for successful signups.
Newly enrolled members of the course repeat this process.
Despite being arrested for sex trafficking and being banned from multiple social media platforms, Tate’s misogynistic views continue to circulate – just a scroll away from anyone with a smartphone.
The “Real World” is run through the online instant messaging platform Discord, which has numerous channels where members of the course talk to each other about making money or their ‘big wins’.
One member claimed he had as many as 1,000 fake Tate Tiktok accounts. Another said he had been posting videos of Tate on Instagram for months without success, until one of his videos eventually went viral and a viewer signed up to the course using his affiliated link.
He posted his first “big win” into the Discord channel, as other members praised his achievement. “Thanks guys, we’re all going to make it,” he wrote. “I remember yesterday thinking I will never be like those guys that get views”.
This first big win? $11.
If the claims of 200,000 paid users of the course are true, at £40 a month this would net Tate around £96m a year.
Members are encouraged to keep their identities secret, so they address each other as “G”. Tate himself is referred to as “Top G”.
At its centre, the cult of Tate is governed by his “41 Tenets for men” – a set of laws that are a framework for “any man to live a beneficial life”.
Principles include believing “men have the sacred duty to raise strong, capable, and honourable sons”, while having the “sacred duty to raise kind, feminine and virtuous daughters”.
Other tenets make vague assertions about free speech, honouring your ancestors, and protecting the sanctity of your bloodstream. Such dog whistling has inevitably attracted members of the far-right into the course.
In one message board, where members ask Tate questions, one member asked: “When they kill you, do you want us to riot to attack the matrix and break it down? Or do you have any other plans in place for if they kill you?”
In reference to Tate’s imprisonment in Romania, another posted “we soldiers need to help strengthen each other to prepare for the time when our commander comes back”.
Another devotee goes on to say, “Tate, first of all you are risking your life to fight the good fight against tyranny and we are all grateful for the opportunity you are giving us.
“I recently became so obsessed with the money, the matrix, all the people who are responsible for it and all the puppets involved that I went into a self-induced psychosis and spent nearly a week in hospital.”
On the fringes of the so-called Real World is a hodge-podge of misogyny, alt-right and conspiracy theory – where members think he is an arbiter of truth who is standing up against the “matrix”.
However, it would appear that many members are not trying to overthrow the world order, but simply seeking a way to make money.
Some ask Tate how to make enough to cover medical bills, make their rent or what they can do about their feelings of loneliness and depression.
Misguidedly or not, in the toughest economic times in recent memory, supporters are placing their hopes on their saviour Tate to help them, and the desperation is clear.
“Hey top G,” one Real World user asks. “I live paycheck to paycheck from my mum and dad’s low salary and I’m just sick of it all.
“I don’t want to live my life like that and I want to give back to my parents for their sacrifices and for my siblings.”
